


IT Imagines

by imaginingpotter



Category: IT, IT (2017), IT (2019), IT - Stephen King
Genre: F/M, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2020-10-25 17:03:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 30,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20727716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginingpotter/pseuds/imaginingpotter
Summary: Imagines for ‘IT’ (chapters one and two) from my Tumblr @ftwdimagines





	1. Bill x Reader: From Afar, Part I

**Summary: **Y/N Uris returns to Derry after 27 years with the rest of the Losers’ Club, minus one.

**Request: **_So excited you’re writing for ‘it’! Can I request a bill x reader? One where the reader is Stan’s sister but I don’t mind if it’s the young or adult versions. Sorry I don’t have a solid idea in mind ||| _No problem anon, this fits with an idea I had in mind anyway. This is about the adult characters but with flashbacks to when they were kids.

**Word Count:** 2k

**Warnings: **SPOILERS for Chapter 2, swearing, mention of bullying. Hella angst, at least for me because I’m super close with my brother and this made me sad (more angst will be in other parts, this ended up too long and I’m going to do multiple parts). There’s also fluff to even it out, though, don’t worry.

**A/N:** Y/n/N = your nickname. Italics = flashback.

————

An airport was the last place you wanted to be right now. There were too many people rushing around to reach their gates, there was too much noise, too much chaos, as if the storm raging in your mind wasn’t enough to deal with already. Multiple emotions stacked on top of each other and you struggled to even understand how you’d gotten there. You were upset, anxious, exhausted both physically and emotionally. And you were angry. Angry at the jerk who’d just knocked into you when walking past and didn’t bother to apologise or even acknowledge you, angry at whatever it was that was forcing you to return to Derry - a place you didn’t even remember until recently. But most of all, you were angry at your brother.

It was confusing. You felt guilty for being so pissed off at him, but how could he do that? How could he do what he did? He had left you, his little sister. Though you were only a few years younger than Stan, you always looked up to him and you always needed him. You had taken care of each other ever since you were kids and it always seemed like it was you two against the rest of the world, even when you would bicker like all siblings do. He would always make sure you were happy and healthy and you’d patch him up whenever he’d come home with scrapes and bruises after encountering Bowers and his gang.

You were partners in crime, though your ‘crimes’ mainly consisted of teaming up to smuggle cookies back into your rooms at night where you’d stay up way past your bedtimes to talk until one of you eventually fell asleep. It was usually you who’d fall asleep first and every morning you’d wake up tucked in, back in your own bed. He was always a great big brother to you and that’s why it was especially hard to understand why he had killed himself. Of course you had an inkling, though. You’d gotten a call from Mike, too.

~~~

_You called your brother almost immediately after getting off the phone with Mike. Stan had been contacted by him as well, though you both found that you had strangely forgotten who Mike was until the phone call._

_“It sounded serious. Do you think something’s wrong?” You asked, holding the phone against your ear._

_Stan didn’t live very far from you but it was a long enough drive that you only saw each other in person occasionally and most of your contact was via calling, texting or FaceTime._

_“Yeah.” Stan said quietly with a sigh and you almost didn’t hear him._

_Though neither one of you verbalised it, you knew you had both felt that fear when Mike called. What it was exactly that you were afraid of was unclear. You could feel the memory tickling at you, it was buried somewhere deep in your mind, but you just couldn’t think of it no matter hard you tried._

_You pulled your laptop out and turned it on, leaning your head against your shoulder to hold the phone in place so your hands were free to type._

_“This is crazy, how did I just completely forget about Derry? Even now I can only remember little bits.” You huffed, looking for cheap tickets to get the earliest flight possible._

_Stan mumbled instead of giving a proper answer but you were too focused on your current task to take real notice._

_“I guess I’ll see you soon then, Stanny?” You said._

_“Yeah…see you soon. Love you, Y/n/N.”_

_Stan was quieter than usual on that last phone call._

_The next morning you had several missed calls from two different people. The first two were from Stan and the rest were from his wife, Patty. Still groggy and only partly awake, you attempted to call Stan back but every call would go straight to voicemail. When you finally reached him you were surprised to hear Patty’s voice, not Stan’s. You assumed Stan was busy and that’s why he needed Patty to answer the phone._

_Maybe he was in the bath or something._

~~~

Derry hadn’t changed. Or maybe it had, you couldn’t remember enough about what it used to be like to know if it was still the same or not. The flight was smooth in terms of turbulence and whatnot but every time you looked at the empty seat next to you, the seat where Stan should have been sitting, you were reminded all over again of the fact that he wasn’t there. Maybe you were still in shock because as much as you thought about the fact that you’d never talk to him again, the full weight of that still hadn’t really hit you. You acknowledged that he was dead, that he’d never again roll his eyes at some dumb joke you made. But it was still hard to truly understand it. It still seemed so strange, like it wasn’t actually happening and you’d wake up the next day and all would be back to normal. This was some fucked up nightmare. It felt like you weren’t even awake but just mindlessly walking around, somehow feeling both overwhelmed with emotion and numb at the same time. You were just _floating_.

The car that you rented squeaked as you slowed to pull into a car park, turning the engine off and sighing. The restaurant looked welcoming and friendly but you only felt anxiety. You knew that your old friends were all in there by now, and you knew you were late. Typically, you hated being late as you didn’t want to be rude and keep people waiting, but under these circumstances you guessed that it was better if you waited a while. As soon as you got there, these people who you’d only just remembered existed would notice that Stan wasn’t with you and probably ask where he was, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from breaking down at the question. So you decided to wait. You’d let your old friends reunite without the Urises. They would at least be able to have some fun before you had to go inside and drop the bomb that your brother and their childhood friend had committed suicide.

——

Bill laughed at Richie’s antics and the disturbed look on Eddie’s face. These were some of the most important people to him in the world, how did he forget them? Everyone was still the same, just older.

Despite enjoying himself, he kept glancing over at the entryway. Bill was starting to remember more things the longer he sat with the other Losers. Most notably, he was remembering one Y/N Uris. It was still hazy and he guessed that he’d need to wait to see you again to start remembering more details but for now, all he could think about - besides the lingering dread everyone had pushed to the back of their minds for the time being - was you. The girl he used to spend all of his time secretly admiring from a safe distance until Stan brought you to the Quarry one afternoon and you became friends.

Bill could now picture every detail of your face; as a kid he used to take great care to observe every feature so that he could relay them onto paper in the vibrant watercolour shades that he thought were worthy of your natural radiance. He knew Stan would probably have strangled the daylights out of him if he were to find the notebooks full of drawings of his sister. Bill used to worry that he was being creepy but he couldn’t exactly help it, you inspired enormous amounts of creativity within him.

He also remembered how kind and considerate you were. It was one of the things that he loved most. Bill tried to stay focused on the conversation at the table but his mind still wandered. He was wondering why you and Stan weren’t there yet or if you would even come at all but mostly, he was eager to see how much you’d changed. He wanted to see what you looked like after all these years, he wanted to know what your job was, if you had any family and what your life had been like. Had your interests changed over time? Did you still like the same music that you used to when you were all kids? Bill wanted to know everything there was to know about you.

~~~

_Bill rolled silver along the footpath miserably. Most of the blood had dried on his nose by now, leaving an uncomfortable feeling but some of it still dripped down onto his lip. He winced at the metallic taste and cursed Henry Bowers in his head. The taunting was the same as always, making fun of his stutter and the like. It was an easy thing to attack but Henry wasn’t all that smart so he just threw out the same old insults over and over again and when he ran out of things to say, out came the fists. Or knife. Whichever one he felt like using at the time. Most days Bill was able to put up with his bullshit but a person can only take so much before it starts to get to them. Bill had talked back and it earned him a handful of kicks and punches. Thankfully it wasn’t so bad, he just had a bloody nose and some bruises. He walked past the pharmacy at a slow pace with slouched shoulders._

_Inside the pharmacy, you approached the register with your chocolate bar in hand. Greta chewed obnoxiously on her gum and stared at you from her seat behind the counter like you were some sort of cockroach crawling on her sandwich. You passed Mr. Keene what you owed for the treat and quickly turned around to leave. Neither Greta nor her father made you feel comfortable. In your rush to get out of the pharmacy you knocked into a boy walking past._

_“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Oh, hey Bill.” You said, first recognising the bike before looking upwards at his face._

_Bill smiled, momentarily forgetting about the blood covering his nose and lip._

_“Jeez, what happened to you?” You gasped, but it wasn’t hard to guess what had happened._

_“Buh-Bowers and his g-g-goons.” Bill shrugged half-heartedly._

_You grabbed Bill’s hand and pulled him along, leading him into the alley near the pharmacy. Bill gulped and tried to stop the corners of his mouth from twitching into a smile at the feeling of your hand holding his own._

_Soon after you were sat next to Bill with his bike leaning against the wall. You pulled out a packet of tissues from your pocket and turned the rusty handle of the tap protruding from the brick wall, wetting a tissue slightly and handing it to Bill. He held the damp tissue, staring dumbly._

_“Your nose.” You gestured to the tissue and then Bill’s bloody nose._

_“Oh, r-right.” Bill attempted to wipe the partially dried blood but not being able to see himself, he was missing most of it._

_You giggled and Bill’s heart fluttered at the sound._

_“Here, I’ll do it.” You took the tissue back and began to gently wipe away at the red liquid, not noticing Bill staring at you in wonderment._

_When you’d wiped away the blood you gently took his face in your small hands and started to feel his nose. Bill felt his cheeks grow warm and he really hoped you wouldn’t notice. Thankfully you seemed too focused on checking his nose to be looking at his now pink cheeks._

_“I don’t think it’s broken or anything. I’m no expert but I’ve had to fix Stan up plenty of times.” You pulled your hands away and Bill felt a little disappointed._

_You hadn’t stood back up yet and Bill was all too aware of how close you both were. If he were brave enough, this would be the perfect opportunity to kiss you. All he’d have to do is lean forward a little bit, that wasn’t so hard. Bill contemplated whether or not he should actually try and do it and in his head it seemed like he was looking into your eyes for a really long time, when it was only a few seconds._

_The window of opportunity passed when you moved away slightly. You reached into your pocket again and pulled out the chocolate bar you’d just purchased, tearing it open and snapping it in half. You presented one half to Bill and he shook his head._

_“N-N-No, it’s yours.”_

_“Just take it, I want to share it. Come on, you know you want to.” You waved it around enticingly and Bill chuckled, eventually accepting it._

_You didn’t know it, but that day had meant a lot to Bill._

~~~

After waiting in your car for a little bit longer you finally mustered up the courage to enter the restaurant. The waitress led you to a closed off section towards the back and your heart started to beat faster with every step, your stomach doing flips. It was not unlike the feeling you get when you’re just about to drop on a roller coaster. You heard talking before you saw anyone. Bill, who had of course been eagerly awaiting your arrival, was the first to see you there, slightly hidden behind the waitress who had brought you over.

He had been saying something before but now he couldn’t even remember what he was talking about. Bill’s sentence trailed off and he sat incredibly still, too entranced to do much else. The waitress left and he saw you fully. As cliche as it sounded to Bill, everyone else in the room suddenly wasn’t there anymore. The noise of the rest of the restaurant disappeared in his mind and all he could see was you. So many memories started to pour into his mind, filling in the gaps. You were just as beautiful as you always had been - even more so, in fact. Of course you were.

“Holy shit! Is that you, Baby Uris?” Richie was already up and out of his seat.

You suddenly remembered the nickname. A faint memory of another regular day at the Quarry started to surface. You and Richie had been teasing each other but it was all in good fun. He was affectionately dubbed doofus by you and in return he called you Baby Uris, even though you informed him that you weren’t even that much younger than the lot of them. Regardless, the nicknames clearly stuck. You also remembered your brother being suspicious of Richie’s relationship with you but you and Richie were just very good friends. Besides, you knew something about Richie that the others didn’t and let’s just say you weren’t his ‘type’. Part of your close friendship stemmed from you being the only person Richie could confide in when it came to that part of his identity.

Little Richie Tozier had grown considerably. You weren’t all that surprised to see how tall he’d gotten. He was always a little lanky and you had a feeling he’d shoot up one day. You were happy to see that he still wore his signature glasses.

“Hey, doofus.” You held your arms out as Richie got nearer and he wrapped you in a tight embrace, smushing your face into his chest from the force of the hug.

For a moment, you stopped thinking about the elephant in the room that was Stan’s absence. You were just happy to be seeing your best friends after so long. Beverly and Mike were the next to greet you, both of them hugging you but in a slightly less overzealous manner than Richie. Ben approached in his same old gentle manner and he gave you a hug and chaste kiss on the cheek.

Eddie rushed over next with a huge grin and it was hard not to see him as the same kid who used to dote on you like a concerned mother, insisting that the youngest of the pack must be looked after. Still in Eddie’s embrace, you remembered just how much these people meant to you. Bev was the sister you never had, someone you could hang out with when all the boys were being too…boyish. Richie of course was your ‘BFF’, someone you could always goof around with but get support from as well. All of them truly felt like siblings to you. Except for Bill. He’d always been different, he meant a lot to you in a completely different way than the other Losers.

A soft, almost shy voice said your name and you lifted your head to see Bill Denbrough standing not far from you. Eddie let go of you and you turned to face Bill fully. Like the others, he’d changed a lot since the last time you spoke. His hair was the same deep reddish brown colour but with a few hints of grey and overall he had grown into an incredibly handsome adult.

“Hey, Bill.” You said quietly with a small smile.

The rest of the Losers watched the interaction, a little confused as to why you were both acting strangely toward each other, except Richie wasn’t confused at all. He knew what was up. Seeing you both together made him remember something else - Bill had inadvertently ‘spilled the beans’ one day (Richie had rifled through his backpack and found all of Bill’s drawings of you, and it became even more obvious that Bill liked you when he got all red faced at Richie’s playful teasing). Richie was almost certain that you felt the same way about Bill. He sincerely hoped Bill would actually do something about it this time around but he was willing to play matchmaker if needed.

Bill was the first one to move and he stood in front of you for a brief moment, looking into your eyes with such warmness that it felt like you had seen each other only yesterday. He gently pulled you towards him for a hug and you happily smiled into his shirt, a tingly warmth seeping through you. Bill was so familiar, like home. You had no idea how you had managed to forget this guy but you didn’t want to let it happen again. This felt right to you, and Bill felt the same.

The both of you realised that this hug went on for a little too long when someone cleared their throat and you parted awkwardly.

“Where’s Stan?”


	2. Bill x Reader: From Afar, Part II

**Summary:** You finally have to tell the rest of the Losers what happened to Stan and it’s harder than you thought it would be.

**Word Count:** 2.2k

**Warnings: **Mentions of suicide, swearing, traumatic descriptions of maths homework (sorry math lovers but I can’t relate)

——

“Where’s Stan?”

Everyone had noticed that Stan wasn’t there but it was Mike who’d asked the question. All of the warmth and happiness you’d previously felt left your body and was replaced with the familiar empty coldness. In an attempt to stave off the inevitable emotional breakdown for as long as possible, you swallowed thickly and focused on not allowing your eyes to water any further. Trying to speak without crying was difficult to do at the moment.

“Stan’s not coming.” You said simply.

Some of the Losers were surprised that Stan hadn’t come with you. After looking at your face though, they decided it was better not to push you into saying anything more than you wanted to. You would elaborate later. Bev was slightly more perceptive and knew that something more had happened than just Stan deciding to stay home but like the others, was going to wait until you could give them a better answer. Bill frowned in concern at your sudden drop in mood and the group shuffled back into their seats.

For a while you just sat and the conversation flowed around you. You picked at some food but the anxiety you were feeling would make it hard to keep much down. The whole group noticed, some more than others, and attempted to bring you into the conversation more but you weren’t feeling very talkative. You felt bad, you didn’t want to ruin the night by being so closed off and upset. In all fairness, though, you had every reason to be.

“I crashed my car.” That sentence got your attention and you widened your eyes at Eddie’s words.

“Seriously?” Bill asked.

“Yeah.”

“Man, I hear you. I mean, my heart was literally like pounding right out of my chest.” Ben said.

“I thought it was only me.” Said Bev.

“It was like pure f-f-f-“ Bill began to stutter and he looked surprised that he was. You realised that he hadn’t actually stuttered at all until just now.

“Fear. It’s fear, what you felt.” Mike finished.

“Why’d we all f-f-feel like that, Mike?” Bill asked and all eyes turned to Mike.

“You remember something we don’t, don’t you Mike?” Bill said.

Mike took a deep breath and you felt your heart rate increase.

“Something happens to you when you leave this town. The farther away, the hazier it all gets. But me - I never left. So yeah. I remember all of it.” Mike explained.

Everyone looked anxious, all on the verge of remembering the horror they’d all experienced as children.

“Pennywise.” Bev said quietly and all at once, visions of a demonic clown came rushing back to you.

“Oh, the fucking clown.” Eddie breathed, shaking his head.

“Mike, you said you wanted our help with something. What was that?” Bill asked seriously.

Mike explained to you all that Pennywise had returned after 27 years, right on schedule. He told you that a man, Adrian, had been killed a week ago. This was why he’d called you all back to Derry. You had all made a promise that if IT returned, so would you. Subconsciously, you ran your fingertip across the scar on the palm of the opposite hand.

“But we didn’t stop it, because it just bounced back. We made an oath. That’s why I brought you back - that’s why you’re here. To finish it for good.” Said Mike.

You stared at your lap, wondering how much Stan remembered about Derry and Pennywise before he died. It must have been more than you had, he wouldn’t have killed himself for no reason at all.

“Well that shit got dark fast. Thanks, Mike.” Said Richie.

Some of you started to open your fortune cookies in a feeble attempt to change the subject. You held a cookie in your hand but were hesitant to open it. After the shit that’s happened recently you weren’t in the mood to be told by a cookie that everything would be fine and dandy.

“My fortune cookie just says ‘could’.” Eddie scoffed.

“They don’t know how to do fortune cookies here. Mine just says ‘guess’.” Richie said, showing everyone his paper.

“Do you wanna throw that over here?” Bill stood up and everyone passed over their one-word fortunes.

Everyone hovered around the centre of the table as they attempted to fit them all into a sentence but were struggling to find the right order.

“‘Guess I could not cut it?’ The fuck does that mean? That’s rude.” Richie joked and the others continued to move around the papers.

You broke open your cookie and felt your stomach drop when you saw what yours said. Your mouth went dry and the tears that previously threatened to spill were now falling freely. Bill looked over at you and ceased his movements when he saw that you were crying silently.

“Y/N?”

Everyone else stopped yelling and followed Bill’s gaze to where you were still sitting.

“Y/N, what does it say?” Beverly asked nervously.

Without looking up at the others you slid the paper onto the table where Bill sorted the correct order of the words.

_I guess Stanley could not cut it._

“Why does it say Stanley? Someone else fuckin’ answer me!” Eddie yelled in a shaky voice.

The table banged suddenly and you jumped in surprise, vision still blurred from the tears. The remaining fortune cookies began to shake and rattle, a few of them jumping out of the bowl and cracking open to reveal something slimy and grey.

“The fuck is that, man?” Richie stepped away from the table as the fortune cookie creature came all the way out of its shell - it was some fucked up mutant baby fly.

More creatures broke out of the fortune cookies and a black tar-like substance started seeping over the table, and you went completely frozen. Hands wrapped around your upper arm and waist and Bill tugged you out of your seat, away from the table where the bubbling black liquid had been getting dangerously close to you. It was that movement that had snapped you out of your daze enough to get it together slightly and you thanked Bill.

It was then Bill’s turn to thank you when one of the things came flying towards his head and you whacked it with an empty plate, sending it hurtling in the other direction.

“Are those fucking _heads_?” You yelled as you saw the contents of the fish tank.

Everyone was yelling and frantically trying to fend off the whatever-they-were’s. Mike lifted a chair and began slamming it onto the table.

“It’s not real! It’s not real!” Mike yelled.

A waitress came into the room and looked at you all in a mixture of confusion, shock and a tiny bit of fear. You remembered that not everyone could see Pennywise’s bullshit and you all probably looked psychotic.

“Is everything alright?” She asked.

“Yeah. Can we get the check please?” Richie asked.

——

After Richie verbally abused a child who he’d mistakenly thought was Pennywise, the group left the restaurant. The fresh air only made you feel slightly better and Bill slowed down with you while the others walked further away into the parking lot

“Y/N, there’s something you’re not telling us. Stanley…”

Bill’s voice was quiet, as if he was desperately trying not to make you any more upset while still needing to know what happened with Stanley. You shook your head wordlessly and Ben and Beverly noticed, slowly approaching the two of you. This got the attention of the others as well and the bickering quieted down. Bill gently squeezed your shoulder and looked down at you with gentle eyes. You had to tell them now.

“Stanley, he’s…yesterday, he- in the-“ Your voice wavered and lip trembled.

You knew it would be hard telling them about Stan but this was somehow even worse than you’d built it up in your head to be. The words that you managed to get out in between whimpers were not making any sense whatsoever and your friends watched heartbroken as you leaned your hands on your knees and sobbed weakly.

“He-he’s gone. In the bathtub-“

“-in the bathtub.” Beverly said the words at the same time you did.

Everyone processed the information. One of the Losers was gone and his sister was crying her heart out on the damp asphalt of the parking lot. The night had taken a rather rough turn.

“Stanley…Pennywise knew, he knew before she told us!” Eddie began to pace anxiously.

“We have to stop him, I have a plan.” Said Mike.

“I’ve got a plan, let’s get the fuck out of dodge before this ends worse than one of Bill’s books. Who’s with me?” Richie said and Eddie raised his hand.

You were now fully sat on the hard ground, curling your knees up into your chest. It seemed like none of your friends even noticed, being too focused on the adrenaline and fear to see you falling to pieces right in front of them. Bill, as always, was a different story. He was the only one there who truly knew how much it hurt to lose a brother and seeing the pain you were obviously going through was just reminding him of his own. Bill didn’t want you to feel like that, you didn’t deserve it - it was physically hurting him to see you like this. He sat down on the ground next to you and didn’t even try to think of anything helpful or comforting to say because in moments like this, sometimes words just aren’t what you need. Instead he pulled you into his side, wrapping his warm arms around you like a safety net. Bill didn’t try to stop you from crying, he didn’t try and get you to stand up. He just let you have your moment with him there to hold you through it.

The whole time you’d been at the restaurant everyone could tell you were acting strangely and it must have been difficult trying to keep Stan’s death to yourself. Bill realised just how raw it must have been for you seeing as Stan had only just died the day before. The funeral hadn’t even happened yet and you still fought through both your emotional pain and fear of what was waiting for you in Derry and travelled all the way back to the town. You kept your promise, even though all you wanted to do was put on one of your brother’s many sweaters and stay in bed and cry.

Bill’s chest tightened every time you let out another cry but it wasn’t the pleasant, warm type of feeling that he got when you laughed or smiled. This was one of the worst things he’d felt in 27 years. The person that he just remembered he loved more than anything else in the world was suffering one of the worst kinds of pain and Bill was unable to do anything about it. He wished so badly that he could just press a button and make all of your unhappiness disappear but there wasn’t much he could do. He couldn’t bring Stan back for you.

——

_You clutched the papers and textbook close to your chest and hesitantly knocked on the door. Stan had never gotten annoyed at you for asking for help with your homework but you still didn’t like to interrupt him when he was trying to do his own. The door opened and Stan saw the book in your hand, opening the door wider for you with a knowing smile._

_“Need some help?”_

_Stan approached his desk, pulling up the extra chair that he kept in his room for times like this. He closed the book that was on his desk and pushed it to the side, making room for your things._

_“Yeah, sorry. I can’t remember how to do it.” You put your math homework on the desk and Stan looked it over._

_“Oh, geometry! This is kind of fun.” Stan clicked a pen open._

_“Wha- fun? What planet are you on, Stanny?”_

_Stan laughed at both your nickname for him and your disdain for mathematics. Even though you didn’t believe it yourself, he knew you were clever enough to understand it. You’d never been confident in your own abilities and had a habit of downplaying your achievements, passing it off as luck rather than effort and hard work on your part. Stan was always happy to help you with anything, homework included, but he just wished you’d stop being so hard on yourself._

_“Okay, so we need to find the areas of these triangles. Do you remember what type of triangle this one is?” Stan pointed to the first triangle on the page._

_“That’s an isosceles. It has two equal sides.” You answered._

_“Yep, that’s right. Lets measure and label the sides first.” Stan handed you his ruler and you got to work measuring the lengths of the sides._

_“And now you draw a line from the base to the opposite vertex, that’ll be the height of the triangle so you can label it with an ‘h’.”_

_“The who to the what?” You asked._

_Stan smiled patiently and walked you through it. Eventually you’d finished the whole page and Stan did a quick once over to check for any mistakes, proud to see that there were none to be found._

_“Hey, look at that! No mistakes and you did most of it by yourself. See? You don’t even need me.”_

_“Come on Stan, don’t be ridiculous. I’ll always need you.”_


	3. Richie x Reader: You’re My Best Friend

_Platonic! Richie Tozier x Reader; aged up_

**Summary:** Y/N and Richie get into a heated argument whilst sh*tfaced, feat. Eddie Kaspbrak.

**Word Count:** 400+ (almost 500 words)

**Warnings:** Drunkenness, swearing.

**A/N:** Just a very short little thing I wrote purely for shits and giggles. This is just a crack fic tbh so don’t take this too seriously.

——

Richie Tozier was a funny bastard. Your stomach was sore from all the hysterical laughing you’d been doing the whole night and at one point you were concerned that you had peed yourself a little but thankfully you hadn’t. The jokes probably wouldn’t be as funny if you were both sober, though.

Somehow the night had turned from “lets have a drink to calm our nerves” to “oh my god Richie, get off the bannister”. Eddie was your babysitter for the night after he had volunteered. Neither you nor Richie were permitted to leave the hotel building unless it was on fire which, given the way you and Richie were acting and how flammable you probably were with the amount of alcohol you’d consumed, was well within the realms of possibility.

“I dare that clown fucker to fight me. I hope he comes down here - I’ll beat the shit out of him.” You hiccuped, swaying slightly where you stood with your fists up in the air.

“Yeah, I don’t think we should be wishing for Pennywise to show up right now, Y/N. Why did we even let you get this drunk, do you have any idea how dangerous this is? If he did actually come here we’d be quite realistically _fucked_. You’d probably pass out before you could even land a blow and we’d have to drag you both out.” Eddie crossed his arms, guarding the front door to prevent any more escape attempts. Apparently you were a feisty drunk.

You looked at him like he’d just said the most offensive thing you could say to a person.

“Hey, you…you take that ba-…give me a second here.” You held a finger up and moved to sit down on the wooden floors, closing your eyes and sighing.

“See?” Said Eddie.

“Hey, that’s my best friend right there. She could totally take that sloppy bitch if she wanted to.” Richie sat up from where he’d been lying on the sofa, slurring his words.

“Yeah! Hey…wait a second…did you just call me your best friend?”

You opened your eyes again and looked over at Richie who nodded vigorously in response to your question.

“No…but you’re MY best friend.” You looked upset.

“No, no, no. You’re MY best friend.” Richie sat up further.

“No!”

“Don’t fight me on this, Y/N.” Richie dizzily stood up.

“What’s your problem, man? Why can’t you just accept that you’re my best friend, okay-“

“Because you’re already my best friend, shitstain!”

“Oh. My. Fucking. God. You can both be each other’s best friends that’s literally how it fucking_works!_” Eddie exclaimed.

He had gotten a little frustrated by the ridiculous back and forth between you and Richie. You narrowed your eyes at Eddie and Richie threw his hands up defensively.

“What’s with the fucking swearing, dude?”

“Yeah why are you so angry?”


	4. Eddie x Reader: Muppet Baby

_Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader; aged up; requested_

**Request:** _could i request an older!eddie kaspbrak x reader in which they are married and she’s pregnant but he doesn’t know yet and they come back to derry together and maybe after their first run in with pennywise eddie finds out and he freaks out (bc he’s eddie) but she reassures him and he gets really protective from then on? if that’s makes sense? if not it’s totally okay i understand 100%_

**Word Count:** 3.3k

**Warnings:** Swearing, a bit of blood.

**A/N:** M/N = middle name. This got longer than I originally expected it to be, I just kept adding bits and pieces to it gradually throughout the day. Title inspo = my mum because apparently I had a fuck tonne of hair as a baby and she used to call me her little Muppet…

——

“We need to have a talk when you get home.” You spoke into the phone.

“Oh, okay…I - hey dickhead!”

Eddie yelled something at another driver and you heard car horns beeping. You couldn’t help but giggle and could easily picture the hand gestures he was probably making.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. It’s nothing bad.” You said.

Earlier that day you’d left work early to go to a doctors appointment to confirm that you were pregnant. A store bought test had already come up positive and the signs your body was giving you were pretty obvious - you were more tired than usual, you had to get up to pee every five seconds, your breasts were tender and you felt waves of nausea occasionally - but you still wanted to be absolutely sure of it before you told Eddie.

“Okay. Sorry I’m gonna be late to this…meeting…” Eddie’s words slowed down and he stared at the incoming call from Maine.

“Of course, good luck with that. Don’t get into a car accident trying to get there on time, please.” You said goodbye to Eddie, who sounded suddenly very distracted and hung up the phone.

Eddie answered the new call.

“Hello? Who’s this.”

“It’s me, Mike.”

“Mike who?”

A second after saying those words another car smashed into the side of Eddie’s car. Thankfully it wasn’t serious, though it was somewhat humorous to Eddie that his wife had told him not to get into an accident just moments before.

“You okay?” Mike asked after hearing the loud crash.

“Yeah I’m pretty good!”

——

Eddie burst through the front door and saw you reading a book on the sofa chair near the large window that overlooked the city street below.

“What are you doing home early?”

“What are _you_ doing home early?” You asked back.

“Mike called.” Said Eddie.

“Mike Hanlon? Yeah he called me too, just a minute ago actually.” You said, clenching and unclenching your fists - a nervous habit of yours.

Eddie noticed and came over to where you were sitting, lifting you up slightly to sit underneath you where he put your legs back over his lap. He grabbed both your hands to try and stop you from clenching them so much.

“How much do you remember?” He asked.

“Not much. It’s strange, actually. I haven’t thought about Derry in a long time for some reason. But when Mike called I just felt-“

“Scared? Stressed?” Eddie guessed and you nodded.

“Yeah, me too. I crashed the fucking car when he called me.”

“You what? Please tell me you didn’t commit vehicular manslaughter, I’ve got too much to worry about right now.” You said half-jokingly, rubbing your eyes with a sigh.

“No, it was only minor, nobody was hurt. And what do you mean you’ve got too much to worry about, was there something else other than Mike calling? Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

Eddie asked with a frown, immediately jumping to the worst conclusions which were 1) you had cancer, 2) you were going to divorce him or 3) someone died. You’d thought about it after Mike had called and decided not to tell Eddie you were pregnant just yet. Though you were both unable to remember all of the details, you knew that you had to go back to Derry. You also had a feeling that it wouldn’t be a fun visit and if Eddie knew you were pregnant he wouldn’t want you to go. But you knew you had to return, both of you did.

“No its okay, I’m alright. I was going to say we needed to change the brand of coffee beans we use.”

Eddie was obviously not fooled by your terribly unconvincing lie and narrowed his eyes slightly but let it go, knowing you’d open up to him about whatever it was when you felt like it.

“Sure. I’ll get the suitcases out.” Eddie gave you a brief but loving kiss and you swung your legs off his lap.

“Just not the navy blue suitcase, one of the wheels is all fucked up on that one.” You said.

“Awe, but it’s got heaps of pockets.”

“Fine, but don’t complain to me later when you can’t wheel it around properly.”

——

You and Eddie travelled to Derry and the closer you got the more jittery you became. It was excitement to see some old friends you could only vaguely remember as well as worry. You could tell Eddie was feeling it too. Eddie looked at his messages to double check the time and place of the meeting while dropping your bags off at the place you were staying. Eddie was about to say something when the suitcase started acting up but you gave him a pointed look.

“Told you so.”

“Shut up.” Eddie said with a smile, shaking his head.

The restaurant wasn’t very far from the hotel and soon you were walking inside, your arm looped with Eddie’s.

“I am allergic to soy, anything that has egg in it, uhh gluten and if I eat a cashew I could realistically die.” Eddie explained to the waitress.

You slowed to a stop when you saw the two other people standing near the table.

“Holy shit.” Said Eddie.

——

“So wait, Eddie you got married?” Richie asked.

“Yeah, why’s that so fuckin’ funny dickwad?” Eddie looked exasperated.

“What, to like a woman?” Richie asked.

Eddie raised his eyebrows and gestured to you. Mike and Bill had obviously caught on when you both arrived at the restaurant together with you holding Eddie’s arm but the others hadn’t realised you were married yet. Richie looked confused for a second before widening his eyes.

“Eddie Spaghetti and Y/N Y/L/N got hitched?!” Richie exclaimed.

“Don’t call me that!”

“Oh man, this is crazy. What was the wedding like, did he have an asthma attack?” Richie asked.

You laughed when you remembered Eddie standing at the alter looking rather pale, frantically shaking his inhaler and taking puffs of it. Despite the initial stress of making such a huge commitment, Eddie had immediately felt different when you finally reached the end and were face to face with him. You could still remember the goofy grin on his face - he’d looked so happy that day.

Eddie went to pass you some wine but you shook your head, declining the offer.

“You sure?” Eddie asked.

Beverly noticed that you had only been drinking water the whole night and eyed you curiously, making a mental note to ask you about it later. It could be nothing but it might not be.

——

“Oh my god, what happened to you?” Bev asked as Eddie walked through the door covered in some sort of gross liquid.

“I’m fine, everything’s fine.” Eddie started up the stairs, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself than Beverly.

“Jesus, are you okay?” You asked.

“Mhmm.” Eddie nodded with a slight whimper and you went to follow him when Bev approached you.

“Does he know yet?” She asked after Eddie was out of ear shot.

“No. I think I’ll have to tell him now though, he’s been wondering why I’ve been getting sick out of nowhere.” You said.

Beverly was the only one thus far who knew you were pregnant and had agreed not to say anything until you told Eddie yourself. You wanted to keep Eddie as stress free as possible for as long as you could manage but it was probably time to tell him now.

“He’s going to lose his shit.” You said.

Beverly frowned and you explained further.

“I don’t mean he won’t be happy, we’ve talked about kids a few times before and he’s implied that he wants to have at least one. He’ll just be worried is all. Now isn’t the greatest time to be pregnant.” You said.

Bill came inside and Beverly explained to him that Richie was trying to leave but Ben was trying to convince him to stay. You left the two in the lobby and slowly made your way back to yours and Eddie’s room. You thought for a second that you could hear a car engine and knocked on Richie’s door. When you didn’t hear an answer you slowly opened it only to find him gone and through the window you could see a red car peel out down the street.

“Well. Shit.” You sighed.

You slumped onto the bed in Richie’s room and thought back to everything that had happened when you split up to retrieve your individual artefacts. Pennywise knew you were pregnant and you probably shouldn’t have been surprised by it but it still shocked you. Naturally, he used this against you and suddenly you were ten times more worried about your baby than you had been before. Knowing that Pennywise definitely knew about it made the threat all the more real for you. It was this kind of fear that you’d been trying to protect Eddie from.

“Y/N! Guys!” You heard Eddie yell and you ran out into the hallway.

Eddie was sliding down the wall with blood all over his left cheek and dripping down onto his neck. Ben and Beverly came up the stairs and you rushed to Eddie’s side with a gasp. Your husband looked at you with wide eyes, more blood pouring out of his mouth as he started to speak.

“Bowers is in my room.” He said.

“Henry Bowers?” You asked incredulously.

You took his face in your hands and inspected what looked to be a stab wound in his cheek, trying not to hurt him.

“Is it bad?” Eddie asked.

“Uhh, I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.” Your eyes started to water at the sight of Eddie’s bloody face.

——

You smoothed the bandage over the wound on Eddie’s cheek and placed a very gentle kiss over it, making Eddie smile but he winced when he realised smiling hurts a little after you’ve been stabbed in the face.

“Eddie, I’m pregnant.” You surprised yourself with your suddenness.

Multiple different speeches were worked out in your head. You’d come close to telling him a few times but never went though with it so you decided to just screw the speeches and blurt it out.

“I’m sorry?” Eddie asked despite having heard exactly what you’d said.

“I said I’m pregnant, about six weeks along. I went to the doctors the same day Mike called, that’s what I was saying I wanted to talk to you about.” You said.

“Oh, okay.”

Eddie nodded his head, staring at the wall opposite where you were sat on the bed. You were confused that he seemed to be so calm-

“FUCK!” There it is.

Eddie shot up out of his seat and started pacing, tugging at his dark hair harshly.

“Oh my god, you’re - we need to go home, we gotta leave. You can’t be here, it’s not safe! Oh shit, oh shit-“

“Eddie, just take a breath.” You said but Eddie continued to ramble.

“-and you need vitamins and warm socks and shit, you can’t be fighting evil clowns while you’re pregnant, this is insane! And…you were out there alone today! When you went to get your artefact, what if something had happened to you? I wasn’t there-“

You stood up and put your hands on Eddie’s shoulders to get him to stop pacing, similar to how he’d grabbed your hands after Mike had called.

“Just stop for a second. I know it’s crazy, I know it’s really not great timing but you know as well as I do that we can’t leave. The others need us. It’s a good thing our baby is only pea sized right now because can you imagine going into labour while trying to fight that thing?”

Eddie was still panicked but hearing the words ‘our baby’ made him fully cease his movements and he looked from your eyes to your stomach.

“Hm.” He mumbled.

“What?” You asked.

Eddie just mumbled again and pointed to your stomach.

“So…there’s really a baby in there? For real?”

You smiled softly and nodded. Eddie put his hand on your stomach and you felt warm at the gentle touch.

“You do know you won’t be able to actually feel anything yet?” You said.

Eddie didn’t really care and just continued to stare at your stomach where he now knew there was a mini-Kaspbrak growing. He felt a whole new type of protective instinct start to bubble within him. Is this what all parents felt like? Thinking of the word ‘parent’ made Eddie’s heart flutter and he considered the fact that he was now a father.

“Are you okay?” You asked when Eddie had been silent for a few minutes.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m okay.” As soon as Eddie finished speaking he broke out into a sob, shoulders shaking.

“Woah, it’s alright.” You pulled Eddie into your arms and he buried his face into your hair, muffling his sobs.

“I can’t believe it’s actually happening. We’re gonna have a baby.” Eddie was smiling now, overcome with emotion and you realised that he was crying out of joy, not stress.

When you eventually pulled away you wiped the tears off Eddie’s wet cheeks with your thumbs and leaned up slightly to press your lips against his. He kissed back fervently like he couldn’t get enough of you.

“I like this feeling. I want to have lots of kids.” Eddie sniffled.

——

Pennywise looked pathetic. It had significantly shrunken and Mike easily reached into his chest, pulling out IT’s still beating heart. You all felt disgusting and exhausted but this was it. You were finally ending it for good. You, Mike, Bev, Ben, Bill and Richie all squeezed the heart together and the flickering lights above your heads slowly died out, signalling the end of Pennywise. You didn’t sit and revel in the glory just yet and rushed over to where Eddie lay with a bloody gash on his side.

“Eddie.” You said once you’d reached him.

You cupped his cheek and shook him slightly. Nothing. His eyes were closed and he wasn’t moving at all. It felt like you’d just been dumped into a pool of ice as you continued trying for a response, never getting one.

“Y/N…” Beverly said your name gently.

“What?” You snapped.

“Y/N, he’s…he’s gone.” She said with tears in her eyes.

“No, he’s fine.” You insisted.

“Eddie, come on sweetheart. We need to go.” Your words came out like a sob.

Your hands were shaking and you could feel hot tears running down your face but you refused to believe that Beverly was right. The whole place started to shake and Bill began to pick you up. You fought roughly against his hold and shouted for him to let you go. After all you’d been through, everything you’d survived, there was just no way Eddie could possibly go out like this. You had so much more you had to say to him, so much more you were supposed to do together - a child you had to raise.

A sputtering sound caught everyone’s attention and they whipped their heads back in Eddie’s direction. He gasped for air and coughed harshly.

“Eddie!” You yelled and Bill released you, letting you run back over to Eddie.

“Jesus - fuck.” Eddie groaned, holding the injury.

Earlier you had managed to shout at Eddie to move just in time so that Pennywise only sliced a gash into the side of his torso rather than pierce his chest. It was an incredibly close call and if you’d been a second too late, Eddie would have bled out by now. You weren’t out of the woods just yet, his injury was very serious and you knew if you didn’t get to a hospital in time you might lose him. With extreme difficulty and a lot of dedication, Ben was able to carry Eddie out on his back. Eddie was struggling to stay conscious and hold onto Ben but focused on staying alive for you and your child.

The group got out just in the nick of time. 29 Neibolt collapsed into the ground and it was terrifying to think that if any minor change had occurred, Eddie would have been in there. If you had gone home like Eddie wanted you to, you wouldn’t have been there to see Pennywise’s large claw-like limb rushing towards Eddie and yell at him to get down. Eddie would have suffered an even worse injury and he would have died down there.

——

“You can do this Y/N, you’re almost done.”

You held Eddie’s hand in a vice like grip and with one last push you’d finally delivered your son. His sharp cries pierced the air and Eddie’s breath hitched at the sound. Being incredibly exhausted, you only sort of knew what was going on around you. Eddie had cut the umbilical cord and the baby was taken away by the nurses to be cleaned. Eddie only briefly saw part him while cutting the cord and focused back on you with a huge smile.

“I saw his butt!” He said excitedly.

A short while later, after everything had been cleaned up, one of the nurses came back holding your son in a small bundle of blankets. He passed him to you and you felt your heart soar as you looked at him for the first time. He was now clean too and wore a tiny little blue beanie. Eddie’s eyes began to water and he sat on the chair next to the bed, watching as his son opened his eyes and stared up at the two of you with his greyish-blue orbs. You slightly lifted the beanie and gasped.

“Oh my god, he has so much hair! Eddie, look.” Eddie looked under the hat at the dark brown fuzzy baby hair, you were right - he had a whole head full of hair.

“He looks kinda like a Muppet with that hair.” Eddie joked, making you laugh.

You both just sat there for a few minutes in silence, making cooing noises while Eddie stroked the squishy baby cheeks with his finger. You shifted slightly and gestured for Eddie to open his arms.

“No, no I don’t know how to hold him right.” Eddie stressed.

“He’s a baby, you won’t break him. Come on, it’s nice holding him, you’ll love it.” You said, starting to pass him over.

“Just put your arm under like this and make sure you hold his head up.” You said, showing Eddie how to hold him.

Eddie was rigid at first, afraid of hurting the tiny newborn if he were to move his arm the wrong way or not do something correctly. He almost expected the baby to start wailing the second he held him but to Eddie’s delight, your son just stared at him in what appeared to be fascination like he had done with you.

“Hey little guy. I’m Eddie, but you can call me dad.”

You laughed softly at Eddie and the door squeaked open, a red haired head popping inside hesitantly.

“Can we come in?” Beverly asked.

“Yes, come look.” You said.

Beverly grinned and came inside, followed by Ben. The two had taken it upon themselves to come to New York when you were nearing your due date and had been staying with you for the past week and a bit, just helping out with anything you needed and making sure that if you were to suddenly go into labour, you’d be prepared no matter where you were. You hadn’t thought about it much beforehand but Eddie agreed when you suggested making the two the godparents and they were very touched by it, agreeing immediately. Beverly looked over Eddie’s shoulder and tried to suppress a squeal.

“Oh, he’s gorgeous! Ben look at his little face.”

Ben placed the bouquet of flowers with a congratulations card on a table and stood next to Bev to get a better look and smiled - the first Losers’ Club baby was finally here.

“Hi buddy. Every year on your birthday and at Christmas you’re going to get so many presents, you won’t know what to do with yourself.” Beverly whispered.

Beverly saw the looks you and Eddie gave her and she shrugged.

“You’re the ones who wanted me to be his godmother. I’m going to spoil him so much.”

“Have you picked a name?” Ben asked.

Eddie smiled and nodded.

“Stanley M/N Kaspbrak.”


	5. Richie x Reader: Hammock Tyrant

_Richie Tozier x Reader; requested_

**Request:** _Can you do an imagine of the hammock scene but with Richie and the reader? Including the part with the small kick to the face? :)_

**Word Count: **670+

**Warnings:** Swearing, crude humour (because it’s Richie Tozier, guys)

**A/N:** You can choose if you want this to be platonic or not, it’s not really specified so could be whichever way you want to read it as. Could totally be considered a flashback part of “[From Afar](https://ftwdimagines.tumblr.com/post/187859121767/from-afar-part-i-bill-denbrough)” if you want to, I’m kind of thinking of it like that 😂

——

“Okay, Tozier. Out of the hammock.” You said, approaching the hammock where Richie was.

“Why?” Richie acted clueless.

“Ten minutes, that’s the limit. It’s been ten minutes.” You said.

“I don’t see any sign.” Richie shrugged, glancing around.

You crossed your arms and sighed.

“Yeah because we all agreed to the rule, there was a _verbal agreement_. Why would we need a sign?”

Richie flicked to the next page of his comic book, not looking like he was going to get out of the hammock any time soon.

“Fine.” You said.

Richie smirked, thinking he had won. He grunted in surprise when you jumped on top of him and some of the others laughed at the look of shock and defeat on Richie’s face.

“Hey!” Richie whined.

“You wanted to stay in the hammock, buddy.” You said simply.

“Owww, you’re on my foot!”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Tozier, your foot is fine.” You said, getting off of Richie’s foot anyway.

“You’re such a dick.” Richie said with a faint smile.

“At least I abide by the ten minute hammock rule.” You said pointedly.

“‘Verbal agreement’ my ass…” Richie trailed off.

“You literally agreed to the fucking rule when we first came in here! You were all - ‘yes I agree, this club is a democracy not a tyranny!’ and you used that stupid British accent.” You said, poking Richie’s leg.

“First of all, it’s not stupid. Second, screw you okay?” Richie continued to read his comic and you got an idea.

“Hey Richie, I got you a present.” You said.

This piqued Richie’s interest and he lowered the comic slightly, peering at you through his big glasses over the top of the pages. You reached into your pocket, deliberately taking your time to build the tension before quickly lifting your hand back up and flipping him off.

“This is for you, you no-good hammock tyrant.”

Richie barked out a laugh at your actions, thinking it was nothing less than pure genius.

“I’m definitely gonna start doing that.” Richie wheezed.

“Why don’t you come up with your own bird-flipping thing instead, hey?” You said.

You gave him a light kick on the cheek with your foot, knocking his glasses off slightly. Richie made a noise of complaint and retrieved his glasses.

“Yeah, you’re right. I should be more original.”

As Richie said this he pushed his glasses back up his nose using his middle finger. Stan shook his head at the pair of you as you continued to find new and creative ways to point the finger at each other.

“I fucked your mum.” Richie said for a little extra zing.

After being friends with Richie for so long you’d come to be very quick on your feet and you came up with a response almost immediately.

“I didn’t know my mum was a lesbian.” You retorted.

“Ohhh burn!” Eddie called out and Bill tittered from the other side of the clubhouse.

Richie practically choked on the air he was breathing and doubled over with laughter, making the hammock sway slightly from the movement as he clutched his stomach. The good thing about your friendship with Richie was that you could insult each other constantly but knew not to take it seriously, often praising each other’s quips rather than getting offended.

“We need to write this shit down, Y/N. Record it for future generations.”

“Yeah because you two have so much wisdom you need to share with the rest of the world.” Eddie said sarcastically.

“I don’t like what your tone is implying, Edgar.” You said.

“It’s Edward - and don’t - it’s just Eddie.”

You and Richie exchanged a look, the one you both knew communicated ‘hey let’s mess with Eddie for a minute’.

“Sure thing, Eds.” Said Richie.

“I’ve _told_ you not to call me Eds!”

“Richie, leave Edgar alone.” You said.

“Edward! But it’s just Eddie!”

“Relax, Eduardo.” Said Richie.

Eddie inhaled deeply through his nose, curling his lip in frustration.

“Okay, okay, we’re done now. Sincerely, we apologise…” you trailed off, eyes flickering over to Richie.

“…Eddie Spaghetti-“

“Stop!”


	6. Eddie Kaspbrak/Bill Denbrough Parent Headcanons

_Bill Denbrough x Reader; Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader; aged up; parent headcanons; requested_

**Request:** _Can you do headcanons for either Bill or Eddie as dad’s? I can’t decide which one lol_

**Word Count:** 500+

**A/N: **I couldn’t decide either so I just did both

——

** Bill Denbrough: **

  * Protective Dad™️
  * He would never want what happened to Georgie to happen to any kid but he’s extra protective of his own. He might seem overbearing at times to other people but if they knew _why_ Bill was that way, they’d understand.
  * When your kid was very young Bill would sometimes get paranoid that something would happen and was constantly checking throughout the night to make sure that your son/daughter was still in their crib. Some nights he’d just fall asleep in the chair in their room. Eventually he calms down about it but he’d still never let anything bad happen to them.
  * Story time is always epic. Sometimes you’ll just read a regular kids book but most of the time Bill makes something up on the spot, usually with your kid as the protagonist in the story.
  * Genuinely enjoys playing with them. It always makes him feel happy and carefree to play with his kid/s.
  * Bill keeps every single one of their drawings, even the ones that are just random scribbles. He has a big box where he stores them all and has his favourites in his office where he can look over at them when he’s working.
  * Made the mistake of letting his kid read one of his scarier books once. Your son/daughter only got partway through it and started sleeping with the light on, sometimes even hopping into bed with you and Bill in the middle of the night. Bill had to explain to them that they didn’t need to worry - it was just a story he’d written, it wasn’t real (it was better if they didn’t know about Pennywise).

** Eddie Kaspbrak: **

  * Eddie used to be very pedantic when your kid was a baby. He didn’t want them to get sick or hurt but eventually he realised that babies are actually more robust than he thought. Eddie still gets very distressed whenever they cry too much, though.
  * He remembered how his own mother used to make him feel with her obsessiveness and controlling behaviour and he vowed to never do that to his own kid. He still worries, he just tries not to go overboard with it.
  * Eddie loves walking around while holding your baby son/daughter in the structured baby carrier. They’re so tiny and easily fall asleep with their little head resting on his chest and he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever.
  * On their first day of school they were the very definition of over-prepared. Eddie made sure the night before that they had everything they could possibly need in their backpack.
  * Eddie’s just a little bit heartbroken when the day finally comes that your kid decides it’s embarrassing to hold either of your hands in public.
  * He’s always the one to patch them up if they scrape their knees or, like that one time, run face first into a wall. He’s very good at it, too - it makes you think that he would’ve been a good paediatrician.
  * He attends all of their school performances and films them. Your kid, along with most of the other kids in their class, isn’t even that great at singing nor acting but Eddie is always proud of them.


	7. Stanley x Reader: Not Really an Accident

**Summary:** One of your kids accidentally calls Stan ‘dad’ + you and Stan finally discuss exactly what your relationship means.

**Word Count:** 1.9k

**Warnings: **Mostly some good ole soul cleansing fluff but there is some mention of suicide at the end. One curse word.

**A/N:** Awwww I liked writing this. I just gave the kids random names because it got a little too clunky with all the “Y/S/N”s and “Y/D/N”s. I made the daughters name ‘Bee’ which is a nickname (I’ve always thought it was cute lol) but you can decide what it’s short for - I didn’t want to accidentally put anyone’s actual name. Also, no hate to Patricia Uris obvs.

——

You were out running some errands with your son, Luke, and had left your daughter with Stan. The kids were from a previous relationship of yours and Stan had grown to be quite close with the two children. When you and Stan first started dating you’d told him upfront that you had kids - some other guys in the past had felt weird about it but Stan didn’t feel that way. He’d wanted kids of his own for years but was never able to make it happen and eventually he and Patricia drifted apart for no particular reason other than they just fell out of love. They were fortunate enough that their marriage ended on reasonably good terms but it was still difficult and awkward. Then you came along, he fell in love again very hard and very fast, and you had two kids aged seven and twelve who just so happened to crave a reliable father figure in their lives. 

Stan was hesitant to refer to himself as their dad or even stepdad just yet, though. Not because he didn’t want to but because he was worried it might be overstepping. You’d been together for a while now but you weren’t married and he didn’t want to just assume that your kids even thought of him that way. For them to call him ‘dad’ would imply that they thought of him as someone that would always be there for them, someone that would support them no matter what, would protect them from harm for as long as he could before they eventually reached adulthood and became independent. Him being a dad to them meant that he was theirs, they were his - they were family. Stan already knew he felt that way, he knew it a long time ago. He already knew that he’d jump in front of a speeding train for those kids but he wasn’t sure if they’d want him to be that person for them.

He had never met their biological father before but from the way you talked about him when the kids were out of earshot, he wasn’t a very terrific guy. Luke seemed to have a sort of bitter attitude towards his father but Bee was too young to worry much about it. Despite the general disdain and/or indifference felt by you and the kids towards the guy he’d never met, Stan didn’t want to impose. He wasn’t sure if it was his place to take on parental responsibilities for Luke and Bee, even if he wanted to.

Stan was sure he’d misheard it the first time. He was sitting on the couch with Bee on the floor in front of his feet and they were working through a puzzle together to pass the time while you and Luke were out. She was rather good at it, especially considering that it was one of Stan’s more difficult puzzles and she was only seven years old. Bee had dropped a piece somewhere and looked for it under the coffee table but Stan had found the piece first and passed it to her.

“Thanks, dad.”

Bee casually carried on with her business immediately after. She didn’t appear to notice what she’d said, it seemingly just slipped out. For a moment Stan had been frozen. He almost smiled, feeling a new kind of happiness swell within him upon hearing himself called _that_ but he realised he’d probably just heard Bee incorrectly. The second time she said it was harder to write off and it happened only a few minutes after the first time.

“Dad can you please help me with this part?”

Bee scooted to the side of the rug and pointed to the section of the puzzle that she was having trouble with. Stan’s eyes widened. That time she most definitely said dad, there was no mistaking it. He couldn’t hold back his grin this time around.

“Ye-Yeah I’ll help you.”

Stan lowered himself onto the ground next to Bee and started to do the puzzle with her, feeling more content than ever.

——

About an hour later you were walking through the door with Luke, carrying a few bags. Stan and Bee were nowhere to be seen. They’d been doing a puzzle before you left but you assumed they had finished it by now.

“Luke, can you please take these to the kitchen for me?”

Luke nodded and took the bags from your hands, disappearing into the kitchen. You were about to call out to Stan that you were home when you heard Bee’s faint giggles coming from her room down the hall. When you got closer to her room you saw that the door was slightly ajar and you quietly pushed it open a few more inches so you could poke your head in.

Evidently, Bee had gotten bored with the puzzle and decided that a tea party was more fun. She was sat in one of the tiny pink chairs and had various teddies sat in the surrounding chairs. You had to stop yourself from laughing when you saw Stan. Obviously being a full grown adult man, he was unable to use one of the pink chairs properly so instead he sat cross legged on the floor. There was some sort of butterfly hair clip hanging off his curls and he held a small plastic teacup between his thumb and index finger, playing along with Bee’s imaginary tea-pouring.

“Would you like sugar with your tea?” Bee asked.

“Yes please.” Stan lowered the empty cup so Bee could scoop some ‘sugar’ into it.

“Now you have to stir it.” Bee said.

“Oh, right.” Stan picked up one of the tiny spoons and swirled it around in the cup for a few seconds.

“Mum! Where do I put the apples?” Luke yelled from the kitchen.

Stan and Bee heard Luke and looked up, finally noticing you standing in the doorway watching the two of them with a smile.

“Oh, hey Y/N.” Stan wasn’t particularly embarrassed or anything but he definitely wondered how long you’d been standing there.

“Good evening, sir. Sorry to interrupt your tea party.” You said with a playful smirk, making Stan laugh. Luke called for you again in the kitchen.

“Bee, could you please go show your brother where the apples are kept?” You asked. Bee nodded and stood from her seat.

“How does he keep forgetting?” Bee said with an exasperated huff as she walked past you.

Stan stood up and walked over to you with a smile. He leaned down and pressed a loving kiss to your lips before putting his arm around your waist.

“You’ve got a little something there.”

You said, wiping some glitter from his cheek and then removing the hair clip.

“Weird. I don’t remember getting any glitter out.” Stan said after wiping the rest of it off.

“Did she give you a hard time?” You asked, standing on your toes to kiss his jaw. Stan shivered slightly, getting a pleasant tingling feeling from your actions and shook his head in response to the question.

“No, she was good. She uh…accidentally called me dad a couple of times.” Stan said in a voice that you could only guess was shy-sounding.

“‘A couple of times’? Sounds to me like it was not really an accident.” You said, wrapping your arms around his torso. Stan smiled again and nuzzled your hair.

“I guess not. But is that…okay?” Stan still sounded hesitant.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, I just don’t want to be out of line by thinking of her and Luke as my kids. I know I’m not their real dad-“

“Stan, you may not share their DNA but you’re more of a dad to them than their biological father ever was. I don’t know how serious you are about us but…” you trailed off.

But…_what_? You knew you wanted to be with Stan for the foreseeable future and your kids were more than fond of him. If Stan were to decide now that this was too much of a commitment for him it would surely break your heart - your kids’ too. Stan noticed your uncertainty and leaned away from you to look you in the eyes.

“I’m really serious about you, I just wasn’t sure if you were. You, Bee and Luke mean everything to me, I don’t want anything else.” Stan said.

“Really?”

Stan nodded quickly. You breathed a sigh of relief and brushed some loose curls away from his forehead, kissing him again but in a much more intimate and passionate way than you probably had ever done before now that you both understood just how much you meant to each other. His lips were smooth and warm and moved against yours in perfect sync like they always did. Stan made you feel excited and relaxed at the same time, like you were completely free of any anxieties or worries in the moments you shared like this one. You parted slightly, foreheads still touching and your hands cupping his face while Stan’s had gotten comfortable on your waist. Neither of you said anything, you just stood there holding each other and staring into the other’s eyes in a way that doesn’t require words.

——

“Your phone is ringing.” Luke handed Stan his phone.

“Thanks, Luke.” Stan brought the phone to his ear and Luke left again, leaving you and Stan alone.

“Stanley Uris speaking.”

There was a pause while the caller said something and Stan looked confused for a moment.

“I’m sorry?”

You looked over at Stan with a very subtle hint of concern as his expression grew somewhat…disoriented? You weren’t entirely sure.

“Mike…God, sorry - yes, hi. I-I don’t know why I didn’t, um…how long has it been?”

Stan still looked nervous but you left to give him some privacy, from what he was saying you could only assume it was just an old friend calling.

——

Stan had said he was going to have a bath but he’d been taking a suspiciously long time. Luke and Bee were fast asleep by now and you were waiting in bed for Stan to join you when you decided to go see if he was alright.

“Stan? You okay?” You knocked on the bathroom door but were met with silence.

You knocked a second time and were about to try and open the door after not hearing a response again but the door opened rather abruptly, revealing a teary-eyed Stanley. He pulled you to his chest and held you tightly, crying silently into your hair.

“Stan, what’s wrong?” You asked with a frown.

“I couldn’t…” Stan said, shaking his head.

He was going to do it. He _almost_ did. The very thought of going back to Derry to face that thing again almost drove him to end his own life but every time he raised the blade and prepared himself to go through with it, he faltered. Stan thought of Luke and Bee. He thought of you. And he just couldn’t do it. Not when he had so much to live for; he wanted to be there to see Luke and Bee grow up. Stan wanted to marry you and spend the rest of his life loving you, he couldn’t end it all now. So he fought through his fear. He would make himself go back to Derry - for you, Bee and Luke. And he’d kill that fucking clown.


	8. Bill x Reader: From Afar, Part III

**Summary: **Y/N remembers the horror she experienced as a child but it only makes her more determined to stay. (Mostly flashbacks and delving into Richie and Y/N’s friendship more).

**Word Count:** 3.5k

**Warnings: **Swearing, blood/gore that probs got a bit disturbing because I watch too many horror movies, mentions of homophobia + homophobic slurs (that part was hard to write ;-;) + italics = flashbacks.

——

“Let’s get our shit and get the fuck out of here.” Richie said as you all entered the townhouse.

You and Bev made a beeline for the bar and Eddie followed Richie up the stairs to pack his things. Bill had gone off with Mike somewhere, showing some reluctance to leave you while you were in this state but it sounded like Mike had something important to share. Bev poured you a glass of something and you took it in your hand, leaving the room when Ben came in to give them some privacy, though you could use a minute to yourself anyway. You sat in the living room area and could faintly hear Ben and Bev talking but were too preoccupied with your own worries to try and eavesdrop. All you could pick up on was “back at the Jade” and “you said it at the same time”.

Richie rushed back down the stairs with his bag and slowed his movements when he saw you sitting silently on the end of one of the sofas. You didn’t bother to take a sip of your drink yet, you just sat there and stared at nothing in particular. He hadn’t seen you in almost thirty years but you’d been his best friend when you were kids. You and Richie had known each other like the backs of your hands back in the day. It got a little tiring at times having everyone just assume that you were interested in each other romantically; even the Losers had questioned it at some point but it had always been a strictly platonic relationship. Hanging out at the arcade until you were told to leave, finishing each other’s sentences, high fiving his jokes when everyone else just rolled their eyes. It was all a friendship would ever need to be.

_Richie knocked frantically on the door, ringing the bell a couple of times for good measure. He held his head low, staring at his sneakers to hide his face in case one of your parents were the ones to answer but he was pretty sure only your mother was home at the moment - good for him because your dad was a kind of scary sometimes. Mrs. Uris swung open the door, clearly more than a little irked by the incessant ringing and knocking, but was relieved to see one of her kids’ friends rather than someone trying to sell something. Before your mother could properly greet him, though, Richie had stumbled into the house. Quick apologies for his intrusion were muttered as he rushed up the staircase to your bedroom and your mother had half a mind to lecture him about common decency but it seemed like something was troubling him by the way he acted, so she let it go for now._

_Stanley had been walking down the hall when Richie rushed past him, bumping into him slightly and he narrowed his eyes._

_“What the hell, Richie? What are you doing here?”_

_Richie didn’t answer Stan which the latter thought was rather unusual. It wasn’t common for the Trashmouth to be silent. Richie kept his head down and walked to where your bedroom was, giving a quick knock but entering before he even heard a reply. Stan was, again, a little confused but wasn’t interested enough to find out what was going on so he went back to his own room with a slight eye roll at Richie’s lack of regard for his sister’s privacy. You jumped at Richie’s sudden appearance and looked up from the book you’d been reading on your bed._

_“Richie! I could have been naked in here or something! Not waiting to be told to come in defeats the purpose of knocking in the first place.” You said, sitting up._

_One sniffle from Richie was all it took for you to no longer be annoyed at him. He sat next to you and buried his face in his palms, knocking his glasses out of place._

_“Hey, what’s the matter?” You asked._

_Richie shook his head and let out a very faint whimper, showing that he was still crying about whatever it was that had made him so upset._

_“Sorry, I-I didn’t have anywhere - I didn’t have anyone else to go to.”_

_Richie tried to keep his words and sobs to a low volume, probably not wanting Stan or your mum to hear. You rubbed his back comfortingly, the scratchy fabric of his Hawaiian shirt gliding against your palm. This wasn’t the first time you had to comfort him when he was upset but it was definitely the worst you’d seen him before. You manoeuvred around Richie’s shaking form to grab the box of tissues from your nightstand and offered him one. He wiped his tears away - almost aggressively - and blew his nose, refusing to meet your gaze. Richie was rarely this vulnerable in front of other people but he had too much bottled up and he needed to talk to someone. Right now, you were the only person he could think of._

_A minute or so passed until finally he’d calmed down enough to talk properly._

_“Rich, what happened? Was it something to do with Henry Bowers? Is that why you’re so upset?”_

_“Yes…and no.” Richie said cryptically._

_“What does that mean?” You asked._

_“He was saying some stuff, shoving me around like he always does. He called me a…” Richie paused._

_“A…?” You looked at him, gently urging him to continue._

_“He called me a faggot.” Richie said quietly._

_You frowned but weren’t entirely sure why it had gotten such a huge reaction out of Richie. Henry and his gang had called all of the Losers’ a faggot at some point and usually none of you took it seriously, learning over time to ignore his name calling the best you could, as hard as that may be._

_“And…why’s that got you so upset? I’m not trying to say it isn’t hurtful because it is, but you usually just shake that stuff off.” You said._

_Richie went quiet again, staring at the floorboards in shame. He could feel your eyes on him, patiently waiting for him to explain further. On one hand, Richie wanted to tell you. So badly. He’d been hiding this part of himself for so long and it was harder than one who’s never experienced it could probably imagine. But then he thought of all the possible reactions you could have. Richie played the scenario through in his head - he’d tell you, you’d immediately pull away from him in disgust and tell him to leave. You’d tell him that you didn’t want to be friends with him anymore. You would tell everyone in Derry about it and he’d become even more of an outcast than he was already. You wouldn’t want to associate with someone like him. He wouldn’t blame you for not wanting to be around him if he were to be completely honest about who he was - who would?_

_You nudged his shoulder lightly and he was brought out of his thoughts. Then, out of nowhere, he just couldn’t do it anymore. Every neatly laid brick that made up the protective wall between him and the rest of the world was destroyed in an instant. He’d spent so much time meticulously picking out which parts of his identity were and weren’t okay to show to other people. Richie felt like he was acting half the time, like he wasn’t being who he really was. The only time he felt like himself was when he was with you and the rest of the Losers’ Club but even then, there was something he’d been actively trying to hide._

_“Richie, why did it upset you this much?” You repeated your earlier question after his very long pause._

_“Because I am!” Richie blew up, making you flinch a bit._

_You gave him a look that showed you didn’t really understand what he was getting at._

_“I am that, Y/N, I’m a fucking fag!”_

_Richie’s voice cracked as he yelled and he stood quickly from the bed, headed for the door to leave. He didn’t want to stick around to hear his best friend tell him how disgusting he was._

_“Richie, just wait a minute.” You ran and stood in front of your door before he could reach it._

_“Just let me go, Y/N.” Richie’s tears continued to fall._

_You shook your head defiantly, blocking his escape route._

_“No, Richie. I’m not letting you go until you calm down and listen to me.” You said._

_“Why should I? I’m already a shitty friend, I know I just annoy all of you. And now-now there’s this, I’ve got nothing going for me, I’m just a mistake! There’s nothing good about me, I’m just that one kid you’ll all forget about in a few years.” _

_Richie didn’t hold anything back. He knew he’d soon probably regret divulging some of his most intimate fears and insecurities but there was something almost cathartic about it. It was different actually verbalising these things for the first time instead of going over it in his head yet again by himself. It truly did feel like he was opening the floodgates and releasing everything that was bothering him._

_“No, you’re not a bad friend.” You guided a weeping Richie back to the bed and sat him down._

_“You don’t annoy us. I know Stan likes to act serious a lot of the time but he really cares about you, we all do.”_

_“But I’m-“_

_“So? The hell does it matter who you’re attracted to? It doesn’t change anything Richie, you’re still the same person I became friends with. You always make me laugh, you’re way smarter than people seem to think you are, and you always stick up for me when someone’s giving me a hard time. You’re not a bad friend, Richie. You’re a great friend and an amazing person.”_

_You wrapped your arms around his slender frame and tried to channel every ounce of your support into the embrace, hoping that somehow he could understand from it that you really meant what you said. From the tears falling onto your shoulder you could tell he was still crying but he’d become considerably less hysterical._

_“So, you’re not…disappointed?”_

_“No, of course not.”_

_“And you’ll keep this between us?” He asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice._

_“I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry.” You said._

_Richie nodded and relaxed into the hug, wrapping his own arms around your shoulders and resting his cheek on your head._

_“You guys won’t forget about me when we’re all older, right?” Richie whispered._

_“No, I can’t imagine we would. I think it’d be pretty hard to forget you, doofus. I promise we won’t.”_

The entire Losers Club, with the exception of Mike, had broken that promise. Not intentionally, of course. Richie knew this and he himself had mostly forgotten about everyone else but it was still scary and pretty heartbreaking to know that for upwards of two decades one of his worst fears had been realised and he didn’t even know it. Then something hit him: you’d just experienced your worst fear, too. He had been so focused on getting out of Derry that he didn’t really stop and properly consider what you were going through. None of the Losers truly had except for Bill. It wasn’t that they didn’t care, they were just too caught up in the chaos of everything that they weren’t thinking with clear heads quite yet. Richie saw the way you were sitting there, looking not entirely present in the moment. You were a ghost of the person you were only mere days ago because your worst fear was losing your loved ones.

_You stared in confusion as you saw your brother standing at the end of the hallway. Richie, Eddie and Bill were the only other people who you’d come into Neibolt with. In hindsight, you probably should have realised something was wrong just by looking at the freaky way your ‘brother’ was standing deathly still and silent._

_“Stan?”_

_Stan didn’t reply. He began walking further away, turning into another room somewhere down the hall. You followed after him and none of the boys noticed you leaving as you had been at the back of the group. When you entered the room you’d just seen him walk into, it was empty._

_“Stan?” You repeated._

_You could have sworn he walked into that room. As you turned to leave, the door slammed shut and you jumped back in shock. You rushed to open it and get back to the others but it wouldn’t budge no matter how hard you pulled. A sort of scuttling sound accompanied by a hushed giggle made your blood run cold and you immediately stopped pulling on the door. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears and your breathing grew heavier as you slowly turned around._

_“Leaving us so soon, Y/N?”_

_Now you knew for sure that it wasn’t your brother. It looked like him, it sounded like him, but there were little things that were wrong. It spoke in a tone that Stan would never use - childlike and terrifying at the same time - and his lips curled into an impossibly wide, sinister smile that you knew you’d be thinking of when you tried to go to sleep that night. The eyes were the most disturbing, though. They were the same colour as Stan’s, exactly the same in every way only they didn’t hold the usual friendly warmth. They were cold, lifeless. Dead. You whipped back around and tried to pull open the door again, yelling out for the others to come help._

_“They aren’t going to save you, Y/N. By the time ole Pennywise is finished with you, they’ll float too!”_

_The room went silent for another moment before you heard a peculiar sort of squishing sound and you began to turn around again. You wanted to keep trying to open the door but it was as if your body were moving of its own accord, like when you can’t bring yourself to look away from a train wreck. Your body just moves on it’s own and forces your eyes to witness the sight, despite your brain being absolutely terrified._

_Scarlet liquid dripped down the Stan imposter’s forearm and your eyes followed up the arm to the source. It pulled it’s hand away and revealed a broken piece of glass clenched tightly in its fist and more blood spurted out of the jagged gash in its neck. You felt like you were already screaming but no sound was coming out and your legs were wobbly, barely keeping you upright. Logically, you knew that it wasn’t really Stan but somehow that information didn’t properly translate in your head with the image you were seeing before you. You were quite literally stunned into silence and you watched with wide eyes as it drew back its hand, roughly plunging the sharp glass back into its neck. And then it did it again, and again, and again until you finally started screaming in horror._

_You covered your eyes and dropped to the ground, bringing your knees to your chest. Though you couldn’t SEE it happening anymore, you could still hear it. You could hear the repeated sloshing sound and not even your screams could drown it out. The door banged behind you and jolted you along with it and for a moment you thought it was that thing doing it until you heard yelling._

_“Y/N! Open up!”_

_“She’s screaming her head off, Bill! I don’t think she can come to the door right now!”_

_Richie and Bill pulled on the door with all their might, trying to get you out of the room before something bad happened. All of a sudden your screams stopped and they paused, fearing the worst. Their blood ran cold and hearts started pounding even harder against their rib cages._

_“D-Don’t stop trying!” Bill yelled, pulling on the door even more desperately than before._

_You’d stopped screaming when you heard that the slashing has ceased. When you peeked through your fingers ‘Stan’s’ body was dropping to the ground and as the knees hit the floor its head came tumbling off, landing on the floor with a thump. You whimpered as it began to slowly roll towards you but with every roll it’s face changed. Stan, Bill, Richie, Eddie…and all of the other people you cared about most. You shook your head and tried to remind yourself that it wasn’t real. Bill and Richie were right behind the door, Stan was outside with the others. It finally reached you and bumped right into your leg making you shiver and crawl further back into the door. It’s face had now returned to Stan and it smirked at you._

_“You’re going to lose everyone, Y/N.”_

_The door behind you opened right as Stan’s headless body began to morph into the tall clown. It lunged at you with a loud cackle but you were pulled out of the room by Bill and Richie slammed the door on the clown’s face. The two quickly looked you over for injuries and you began to sob again. They didn’t know what you had seen but you looked thoroughly traumatised. You were one of the bravest of the Losers - you were ready to jump right into the action and had walked into Neibolt, not showing your fear. When you first encountered Pennywise on your own it had only shown you its clown form and you were prepared to take it on with your friends but what you’d just seen was plucked straight out of your worst nightmare._

_Bill and Richie tried their best to comfort you. You cried into Bill’s plaid shirt and he hugged you close, his own eyes beginning to water at your distress._

_“W-wuh-whatever it was…it wasn’t real.”_

That day, you thought nothing could possibly be worse than what you’d experienced. You were wrong. At least back then, you had been able to run out of Neibolt with your friends and into Stan’s arms. He was unscathed that day and he could reassure you that he was okay, he swore to you that he wouldn’t leave his sister like that. Another broken promise.

Richie put his bags down for a moment and walked over to where you sat, almost hesitantly as it has been many years since the two of you were best friends and he wasn’t sure if it would be weird for him to immediately go back to acting like he used to with you. You looked up when you saw Richie standing in front of you.

“So you’re really leaving?” You asked.

Richie sighed and put his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah…but you should leave, too. Come with us, stay alive a little longer.”

Richie tried to convince you to leave Derry but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn away now, as much as you wanted to.

“I’m not staying because I want to. Nobody in their right mind would enjoy going through this shit, especially not for the second time. I’d really rather be at home right now, preferably in my pyjamas with an inordinate amount of ice cream but I said I’d come back if IT ever returned, so that’s what I’m doing. Believe me, I’m depressed out of my mind right now. I have no idea what I’m doing, I don’t think anyone here does. But I swear to god I’m going to kill that clown bastard if it’s the last thing I do.”

Richie raised his eyebrows at your sudden switch from completely deflated to determined and sat next to you on the couch.

“Well, you always were pretty badass, Baby Uris. I can see why Bill likes you so much.” Richie teased, nudging your side with his elbow.

Richie still hadn’t changed his mind about leaving but you weren’t too worried just yet. You knew he’d have an epiphany and come back soon enough, he always did. Right now, he was too stressed out and focused on leaving to listen to anyone trying to convince him that he had to stay. No, he had to realise that on his own.

Richie had gathered his bags again and the two of you walked back to where Ben and Bev were. You quickly downed the drink, wincing just a little bit at the faint burn.

“Whatever you guys are talking about, let’s make it happen faster, alright? We gotta go. Eduardo, andale, let’s go!” Richie yelled.

“There’s something you’re not telling us. You knew how Stanley died, you _knew_.” Ben said to Bev and you stood still, looking at Bev in surprise.

“Wait, what?” Richie stepped back into the room.

“I can’t do this.” Beverly walked past you and Richie.

“She knew how Stanley was gonna die? Is that what she just said?” Richie was more confused than ever.

You all followed after Beverly, Ben telling her that she couldn’t just walk away from the situation and asking her how she knew about Stanley’s death. Beverly ignored the question, ringing the bell at the desk but nobody was there to assist her so she went behind the desk herself.

“How did you know?” Ben asked again.

“Because I saw it. I’ve seen all of us die.”


	9. Bill x Reader: From Afar, Part IV

**__Summary: **The Losers return to the clubhouse, Bill has a colossal crush on Y/N, and you prepare to split up and find your artefacts.

**Word Count:** 3.2k

**Warnings:** Swearing, some angst.

**A/N:** Y/F/C = your favourite colour.

——

“Okay, I just need to get my toiletry bag then we can go,” Eddie descended the staircase with his bags but was quick to pick up on the fact that the mood had soured considerably in his absence.

“What’d I miss?”

“Apparently Bev’s seen us all die. That’s fun,” you said.

A smile quickly flickered across Richie’s face at the brief return of your sarcasm and trademark Uris eye roll—a bittersweet flash of Stanley.

“It’s a pretty fucked up thing to just drop on somebody.”

As Richie spoke Bev made her way to the couch and sat down with a solemn look.

“Every night since Derry I’ve been…having these nightmares. People in pain, people dying…”

“So? You have nightmares, people have nightmares—I have nightmares! But that doesn’t mean that your visions are true.”

Eddie tried to be logical, not really wanting to think about Beverly seeing his death. The thought alone sent chills down everyone’s spines and nobody was sure if they wanted to actually ask how they died or if it would be best that they remained ignorant of it.

“I’ve watched every single one of us this week…”

“Seen every single one of us what?”

You jumped slightly and turned around to see Bill standing behind you.

“Same place that Stanley wound up,” Bev said and you frowned. Stan’s death was on your mind almost constantly but something about having it mentioned out loud by someone else made it sting a whole lot worse.

“How come the rest of us aren’t seeing that shit? I mean, what makes her so different?” Richie asked and your eyes widened as you began to catch on.

“The Deadlights,” Mike’s deep voice answered.

“Deadlights…” Bill trailed off. You thought back to the eerie image of a milky-eyed Beverly in the cistern, floating above your heads and just out of reach.

“She was the only one of us who got c-c-caught in the Deadlights that day,” Bill said.

Mike explained how all of you had been touched and changed by IT and for all these years, it’d been growing inside of you like a virus. Quite an unpleasant thing to think about.

“It just got to Stan first because—”

“He was the weakest,” Richie said, though he looked like he regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.

“Jesus Christ, Rich,” Bill brushed his fingers lightly against your hand to try and make you feel less shitty.

“What Beverly sees, it _will_ come to pass. It’s what’ll happen to all of us eventually unless we stop IT,” Mike said.

“How the hell are we supposed to do that?” Eddie asked.

“The Ritual of Chüd. The Shokopiwah, the first ones who fought IT, they have a saying: _‘all living things must abide by the laws of the shape they inhabit’_,” Mike said. You guessed this must be what he was telling Bill about.

Richie narrowed his eyes and looked about as confused, tired and simply over it as the rest of you.

“A tribal ritual? Are you fucking kidding me, man? There’s gotta be another way. This thing comes back, what, every twenty seven years? Let’s just kick the can down the road and do it then!” Richie said.

Eddie, who you just noticed had been pacing the whole time (just like old times), saw the painfully obvious flaw in Richie’s plan.

“We’ll be seventy years old, asshole!”

“It doesn’t work that way. None of us make it another twenty years and the way it happens…” Beverly spoke breathlessly, shaking her head.

Richie downed a shot and you rubbed your temples, wanting this nightmare to be over already.

“So if we don’t beat it this cycle, then…” Ben said.

“We die,” Bill’s warm hand was now holding yours and he squeezed slightly, though it seemed like more of a subconscious action.

“Horribly,” Eddie added.

“Thanks, Edgar,” you huffed.

“God, you’re just as bad as Richie. I’ve told you before, Y/N, my full name is _Edward_, but—_Jesus Christ_—y’know what? Forget I even said anything,” Eddie said, shaking his head with a very overt eyeroll.

“Yeah, we don’t need the ‘horribly’ part,” Richie said.

“I didn’t say it—she said it, not me.”

“Guys, I’ve seen w-w-what he’s talking about and it’s-it’s all true. It’s the only way. If we want this ritual to work—“

“We have to remember,” Mike finished Bill’s thought.

“Remember _what_?”

——

The Losers Club ventured through the trees and bushes, looking for whatever it was that Mike needed to show you. Despite the fear that rubbed at the back of your mind and had refused to fully go away ever since Mike first called you, it was hard not to feel nostalgic. Here you were: walking through the Barrens with your friends, sunlight peeking through the trees, leaves crunching under your feet. Though you were all grown up, with many added years of life experience and nearly three decades worth stories to tell, it felt for a moment like you were kids again. The Losers’ Club was back together. _Well, most of the Losers’ Club…_

You walked with Bill at the back, a little further away from the rest of the group. Richie had been walking beside you both but shot Bill a sneaky wink before running off to join Eddie and leave you alone together. The two of you talked about many different things, mostly about what you’d been doing over the past 27 years. You told him about your job and he talked about his life as a writer, and mentioned that he’d almost gotten married once to a woman named Audra but it didn’t work out and they split. It was this mention of Audra to you that made Bill realise _why_ it didn’t work out, why he’d had such a hard time maintaining romantic relationships in general. He thought it must have been something wrong with him, maybe his personality just wasn’t compatible with most people—but that wasn’t the problem. You just can’t commit yourself to a person when your heart already belongs to someone else. It was as if this whole time, despite forgetting almost everything after leaving Derry, somewhere hidden deeply in Bill’s subconscious he had been aware that there was someone he needed to wait for. He did think for a moment it was probably a little weird that he’d ‘rekindled his passion’, or something, for you so quickly. It didn’t _feel_ weird to him, but the last thing Bill wanted to do was come on too strong and scare you off. He didn’t even know if you’d ever felt as strongly about him as he had about you, so who knows just how slim the chances of returned feelings were now after so many years apart?

“And what about you? Did you…ever g-get married?” Bill asked. He knew he had no right to be disappointed if the answer was yes, he should just be happy if you’re happy, but God did he hope you said no.

“No, I never found the right person I guess,” you answered with a shrug, and Bill had to remind himself not to sigh in relief or smile happily so he didn’t seem like an incredibly ill-bred douchebag.

The topic of marriage brought up the thought of Patricia in your mind. You could remember Stanley gushing to you about her when they’d first started dating, and fixing his hair and tying his tie for him before the wedding because he was too jittery to neatly do it himself. They were happy together and your heart dropped when you thought about what it would have been like for Patricia to find Stan in the bath.

Bill saw the way you suddenly slipped away again like you had done several times since you got to Derry. Your eyes lost focus and you went silent. He knew how that felt, he’d been through it himself after everything that happened with Georgie. You inhaled deeply and saw the concerned, sympathetic way he was looking at you with those bright blue eyes of his. Although you didn’t feel like now was necessarily the best time to have a heart-to-heart about the loss of siblings, when would be the right time? The rest of the group was focused on their own conversations or trying to walk through the Barrens without tripping on tree roots but you lowered the level of your voice regardless.

“I could have done something,” you said, not having to explain what you were referring to because Bill already guessed what you were thinking about.

“I know it’s easy to blame yours-s-self but it’s not your fault that Stanley—“

“He called me, Bill. Twice. I only saw the missed calls in the morning when it was too late,” you said, eyes watering.

Bill opened his mouth to say something when you spoke again.

“Stan needed me and I wasn’t there for him like he always was for me. I could have talked to him, convinced him not to do it. He was probably scared and afraid and I wasn’t there, I wasn’t…” you paused and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself before you spiralled into another break down. It would be completely justifiable if you did but you really didn’t want to become that one person who cries all the time.

Bill stopped walking and grabbed your wrist, stopping you as well. Some of the others noticed but continued walking, not wanting to interrupt.

“Hey, hey—it wasn’t your fault, no-none of this is, okay? Listen, I understand. Every day I used to wake up and hate myself because I thought about all the ways I could have helped Geor-Georgie, and how I f-failed him,” Bill squeezed your shoulders gently and you looked into his eyes; they always used to work as a sort of anchor to keep you grounded and sane, and you quickly found that they hadn’t lost the ability to do so.

“But that guilt? It won’t do you any good. I know you’re probably gonna roll your eyes at me f-f-for saying this but Stanley wouldn’t want you to blame yourself. It’s not your fault,” he spoke kindly but firmly, he desperately needed you to understand and believe what he was saying.

One of Bill’s hands brushed a few loose strands of hair behind your ear and you closed your eyes, trying to relax. A crashing sound captured both of your attention and Bill saw Ben fall through the ground further up ahead. There was a moments pause before Ben’s voice travelled up.

“Found it.”

_The clubhouse?_

“I’m okay! Come down,” Ben called out and the group began to edge toward the hole in the ground.

Beverly was the first one to scale down the ladder, the others following one by one until it was just you and Bill. He stepped down into the clubhouse and poked his head up to smile at you, the sun shining through his hair and making it appear as if it were glowing, “Come on.”

You hesitantly put one foot on the first step of the ladder and it squeaked slightly from one of the first uses in many, many years. When you got to the last step Bill took your hand and ‘helped’ you down. Richie could see that it was obviously just an excuse for Bill to hold your arm and he had to exercise a great deal of restraint to stop himself from making fake gagging noises at the major heart eyes Bill was shamelessly sending your way.

When you looked around at the dusty clubhouse, memories of your time there came pouring back in, filling in more gaps that had gone blank when you first left Derry all those years ago. This was the place the Losers could come together and get away from it all, just enjoying each other’s company; where you’d goof around with Richie or unwind with your friends and brother.

Eddie reached his hand through the gap between some old wooden planks and pulled out a small rubber ball, blowing dust off it and smiling fondly. The group dispersed and gazed upon everything that had lasted down here. A poster of The Lost Boys, some of Richie’s old comics—they weren’t very readable now, all wrinkled and damaged, but you could still make out some of the titles and faded illustrations on the pages. The wood that made up the walls and support beams was aged and dirty but the clubhouse was still standing proudly, a testament to a young Ben’s workmanship. In a way, it also felt symbolic of the Losers’ bond; you’d all been separated by distance and forgotten so much about each other and the town you grew up in. But underneath the surface of both your minds and the forest floor, the relationships and memories you’d all cherished were hidden from the rest of the world. They remained strong as ever, without anyone’s knowledge, waiting to be brought to light again and remembered.

“_Hey Losers._”

A rough voice spoke from the shadows and everyone’s heads snapped in the direction of the dark corner.

“Time to float.”

Ben almost fell backwards and you, too, would have cacked your pants if you hadn’t seen Richie sneak into the corner moments earlier. Richie began laughing and stepped out of the darkness, everyone sighing in both annoyance and relief.

“Dude!” Eddie was rather displeased by the joke.

“Remember he used to say that shit?”

“And the dance he used to do—” you said and Richie nodded quickly.

“Yeah, the little dance!” Richie began to imitate Pennywise’s dance and you laughed.

The rest of the Losers weren’t as entertained as you both were.

“Are we the only ones who remember this shit?” Richie pointed his thumb at you.

“Are you two gonna be like this the entire time we’re home?” Eddie asked. You raised your hands in a shrug.

“Alright, just trying to add some levity to this shit, we’ll go fuck ourselves,” Richie sauntered off, whistling. It felt nice being able to joke around with your friends, even if only for the briefest of moments.

“Hey, you guys?”

Bill had lifted a large metal tin with a piece of paper that read, in thick black marker: ‘FOR USE OF LOSERS ONLY - STAN’.

“This-s….S-Stan. For use of L-L-Losers only.”

——

_“The fuck is this?”_

_“So you don’t get spiders stuck in your hair when you’re down here,” Stanley explained. Ever the practical one, he was._

_“Stanley, we’re not afraid of fuckin’ spiders,” Richie tossed his shower cap to the side only to see that almost everyone else had tucked one over their heads, “…I stand corrected.”_

_Stan approached where you were sat, ducked his head where the roof was lowest and reached his hand back into the tin. He took out the Y/F/C shower cap he’d picked for you._

_“Can’t let the spiders eat my sister,” Stan said in the gentle tone he reserved for his sister. He pulled the shower cap over the top of your head and it crinkled loudly in your ears._

_“I’m not a baby, you know,” you smiled and he smiled back softly, dimples showing._

_He carefully tucked the rest of your hair up into the shower cap, “No…you’re not, but you’re always my baby sister. It’s my job to look after you.”_

——

You held a shower cap in your hand, gently rubbing the material between your thumb and forefinger. A thin layer of dust coated your finger pads from both the shower cap and everything else you’d touched down here, another reminder of just how much time had passed. But holding the plastic hat in your hand, it didn’t seem like so long ago. Being down there in the clubhouse reminded you overwhelmingly of Stan and you could still feel him there with you, securing the ugly shower cap on your head and ignoring your complaints because he just wanted you to be okay. He always wanted the best for you.

Stan was an old soul, fastidious in his ways, sometimes to the point where it might seem obsessive. That was a trait that steered him towards accounting in adulthood. Numbers were black and white, wrong or right. There were no obscure grey areas and Stan hated grey areas. Things either made sense or they didn’t, and that’s why he’d always had the hardest time out of all of you when it came to accepting the reality of IT. Pennywise defied all logic, he went against everything that Stan had ever believed about the world and that terrified him. Stanley would never act without reason. He would never do something without thinking about it first and carefully analysing all the possible routes that would lead to different outcomes. So, you knew that when he made the decision to end his own life he probably believed it was the best or only decision to make. You wished you’d answered your phone.

“He was old before his time,” Ben said.

“Yeah…I wonder what he was like all grown up,” Eddie said, looking over at you but not pressuring you into speaking when he saw your eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Probably what he was like as a kid. The best,” Richie smiled sadly.

You bit your lip and sniffled, nodding at Richie’s words, “He really was.”

Your eyes welled up to the point where the tears could no longer balance on your eyelids and a small ambitious few escaped, but they were quickly wiped away by your palms before they could roll down your cheeks entirely. Bill felt that unpleasantness again, the very distinct kind that bubbled up within him whenever you were hurt or upset. It drew him to you like a magnet and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, holding you close. Everyone sat in silence for a few moments, each person experiencing their own grief for Stanley and sympathy for the sister he’d left behind.

“Mike, what are we doing here?” Richie asked in a quiet voice.

“The ritual. To perform it, it requires a sacrifice,” Mike said, standing up to his full height.

“Sacrifice? I nominate Eddie,” Richie said, pointing at the shorter man.

“Wait, what?” Eddie frowned with an expression that seemed almost nervous.

“Because you’re little, you’ll fit on a barbecue,” Richie said.

You felt the hint of a smile creep back onto your face and your mood lightened the tiniest fraction.

“I’m five-nine, it’s like average height in most of the world,” Eddie said defensively.

“It’s not that kind of a s-sacrifice, guys,” Bill spoke from beside you and you remembered that Mike had apparently told Bill a lot more about this mysterious ritual.

“The past is buried but you’re gonna have to dig it up. Piece by piece. And these pieces—these artefacts—that’s why we’re here. _They_ are what you’ll sacrifice. And since Stan isn’t here to find his, I figured we should all be here together to find his artefact,” Mike said, making you look back down at the shower cap in your hand.

——

Everyone started to exit the clubhouse and again you were the last one in line. Once he was out, Bill held his hand out for you to take and gently pulled you the rest of the way out through the trapdoor.

“Okay, Mike, so where do we find _our_ tokens?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah, I gotta be honest man. All due respect, this is fuckin’ stupid. Why do we need tokens, we already remember everything! Uh, saving Ben, defeating IT, I mean, we’re caught up!” Richie said to Mike, hands flailing about for emphasis.

“That’s not everything. We fought. But what happened after that? Before the house on Neibolt? Think.”

You wracked your brain trying to remember anything significant that Mike may have been hinting at, but your memories of that summer were still pretty patchy. All you thought about upon hearing Mike say the word ‘Neibolt’ was that horrifying day where you’d ended up in a room, alone, only to come face to face with your worst fear.

“We…c-c-can’t remember, can we?” Bill said.

“There’s more to our story, what happened that summer. And those blank spaces, like pages torn out of a book, that’s what you need to find,” Mike said.

Bill stood up and walked a few feet away, staring off into the trees with his hands in his pockets. You ran your palms over your jeans and got the feeling that you wouldn’t be too enthusiastic about what you all had to do next.

“We need to split up. You each need to find your artefact. Alone. When you do, meet me at the library tonight.”

Richie shook his head in protest as Mike finished confirming your theory that you were all in for some serious shit.


	10. Bill x Reader: Nightmares

**Summary:** Bill’s daughter reads a little bit of one of his books and isn’t exactly a fan.

**Word Count:** 900+

**Warnings: **Swearing

**A/N: **D/N = daughter’s name. Just a cute lil oneshot set some years before the events of IT Chapter 2 (so he doesn’t have his stutter back yet).

——

“I can’t believe you let her read it, she’s just a kid!” Y/N said, partly amused but also just a _little bit_annoyed at her husband.

“She really wanted to, I didn’t think it would scare her this much,” Bill said.

D/N had always been curious about Bill’s books. They were much longer than anything she’d ever read on her own and she knew that her beloved dad was the one who had written them, but for reasons she didn’t entirely understand she was apparently ‘too young’ for them. But the day before, she’d convinced her father to let her read just a little bit. Bill, of course, had a hard time saying no once she whipped out the puppy dog eyes and he picked out his least graphically disturbing book for her.

Everything was fine at first. With reading being a naturally encouraged activity when one of your parents was a writer, D/N was able to work through most of the words quickly and independently, only occasionally asking Bill what an unfamiliar word meant. She wasn’t allowed to read the whole book which she personally thought was total bull, but D/N knew better than to argue against it now that she was finally allowed to read some of his work. A sense of pride swelled within her as she read through it, because it was _her dad_ who had written the story. But then when the scary stuff came along, D/N and Bill quickly saw the errors in their decision making. D/N had to crawl in bed with her parents the previous night because she’d said she was having nightmares and Bill felt like complete shit about it.

“Bill, honey, I’m not mad at you. She’ll be fine, I was about her age when I watched The Exorcist at a sleepover,” Y/N said, settling down under the soft bed covers.

“It scared the piss out of me. I made a crucifix with two pencils and kept a string of garlic on my bed post…I don’t really know what I was hoping to achieve with the garlic, though, since Regan is a demon not a vampire.”

“Regan’s not a demon, she’s just possessed by one.”

“Whatever—my point, you big dope, is that I was spooked for a while but I got over it,” Y/N said reassuringly.

“Yeah. Okay, I guess you’re right,” Bill said.

“I usually am,” Y/N joked, patting Bill’s side of the bed, “now get on over here and cuddle me.”

Bill all but jumped onto the bed, making his wife laugh. She lifted the covers and he joined her underneath, shuffling his way closer to her. He nestled up behind her with an arm around her waist and their legs entwined, smiling at the way they fit together like pieces of a puzzle. It didn’t take long for Y/N to fall asleep like that and Bill wasn’t far behind, but his ears were picking up on very quiet noises coming from another room in the otherwise silent house. He slowly untangled himself from Y/N, trying not to wake her up, and creeped out of the darkened bedroom with as quiet steps as he could manage. When he stepped out into the hallway it became more obvious that the noises were coming from his daughter’s room.

The cool floorboards creaked faintly under his feet and he made his way over to the door with the paper sign that had the words ‘D/N’s room’ scribbled in green and purple crayon. Bill opened the door, leaning in a little bit to check on D/N but almost immediately was surprised with a yelp and something hitting his chest. D/N was sat up in bed holding a Nerf gun, which explained the orange foam dart that had been fired at Bill. A soft violet glow illuminated the room—the butterfly nightlight that she hadn’t felt the need to use in quite a while.

“Oh, phew,” D/N relaxed after seeing it was just her dad.

“Can’t sleep again?” Bill frowned and walked over to the bed to sit next to D/N.

“No. Sorry I shot you, daddy.”

“It’s okay. What’s with the Nerf gun?” Bill asked. He took the toy out of her hands, putting it on the floor next to the bed.

“I was…preemptive?” D/N said.

Bill quirked a smile at the cute way she tested the new word he had taught her yesterday when she’d read it in his book.

“You sure were. If I was a bad guy, I’d be toast by now.”

D/N smiled firmly and smacked a tiny fist into her palm, “Yeah, _burnt toast._”

Bill mused to himself that D/N was definitely her mother’s daughter, she was tough. But he still felt pretty bad about the whole situation, knowing it was his own fault that she was scared in the first place.

“Could you, um, maybe stay until I fall asleep?” D/N asked.

Bill nodded and got comfortable, letting D/N huddle into his side. He tucked the dinosaur print blanket up around her shoulders, smiling at the memory of D/N complaining at the store that it was dumb that the dinosaur things were only marketed towards boys.

“I’m sorry the book scared you. None of it’s real, bug. It’s just a story,” Bill said.

D/N yawned and she had to fight to keep her eyes open, feeling a lot more safe to sleep now that her dad was there.

“Get some sleep now, I’ll be right here.”

“M’kay. But just in case, there’s more Nerf darts in my toy box,” D/N said as she closed her eyes. Bill laughed and shook his head, accidentally falling asleep in there not long after.


	11. Preference #1: Pet names + sweet gestures

**Request:** _I read your preferences for Marauders and was wondering if you could do some for the Losers too? Maybe what their pet names for reader S/O would be or just cute things they do 💓_

**Word Count:** 480

———

_ **Bill Denbrough** _

_Pet names:_ Honey, love or sweetheart.

_Sweet gestures:_ He often inserts little pieces of you into his favourite characters while writing, either he’ll make them say something you’ve said before or give them one of your quirks. Sometimes it’s unintentional, other times he does it purposefully to kind of immortalise you in his own way.

_ **  
Stanley Uris** _

_Pet names:_ He calls you baby-love or little bird.

_Sweet gestures:_ He packs your lunch for you in the morning before you both leave for work and always puts a little handwritten note in there. Stan gives you a lot of compliments out of the blue; you’ll be watching tv or doing a chore and he’ll just tell you how pretty you are.

_ **Richie Tozier** _

_Pet names:_ There’s no one thing he calls you; one minute it’ll be something normal like angel face and the next he’s calling you “my cuddly lil Pop-Tart” because why not?? Hot mama, chica, babylicious and sweet thang are common. Also butthead—affectionately, of course.

_Sweet gestures:_ When he’s away doing his shows, he won’t watch new episodes of the tv shows you watch together without you. Richie was insistent that Game of Thrones or The Walking Dead just wasn’t the same when you weren’t there to banter with or add commentary. To work around this problem you usually Skype or call while watching it.

_ **Eddie Kaspbrak** _

_Pet names:_ Tried out ‘baby/babe’ but felt kind of weird saying it. He calls you sweetheart or pookie.

_Sweet gestures:_ As a kid he was a bit timid when it came to hand-holding and kissing but in adulthood he got over it and is incredibly affectionate. He wouldn’t want to touch anyone else’s hand but Eddie must hold yours everywhere: crossing the street, in elevators, in queues, when you’re just hanging out at home on the couch, etc. He also has multiple first aid kits throughout the house and if you cut your finger or burn yourself when you guys are cooking he’ll go into doctor-mode.

_ **Mike Hanlon** _

_Pet names:_ Sunflower or sunshine because he says you’re the light of his life :’)

_Sweet gestures:_ Mike’s always looking in the library for anything you might enjoy reading. If he sees something he thinks you’d find interesting he either puts it aside or makes a note of the title.

_ **Ben Hanscom** _

_Pet names: _Princess, love, angel.

_Sweet gestures:_ Ben writes you a lot of notes, sometimes it’s poetry and sometimes it’s just a thoughtful letter. You’ve got a whole drawer dedicated to the things he makes for you.

_ **Beverly Marsh** _

_Pet names:_ Hun, peanut, Bambi.

_Sweet gestures: _She can immediately tell if you’ve had a hard day and does whatever she can to help you relax and feel better. Beverly will run you a nice bubble bath with your favourite scented candle, get out your favourite movie and let you vent while she plays with your hair.


	12. Reddie x Daughter!Reader: Kitten

**Request:** _ Would you be able to maybe write some Reddie with a daughter! reader fluff set after the events of chapter two? I’m still in denial 😅_

**Summary:** Y/N has been asking her dads for a pet and they keep saying no, but they’re big ol’ softies and decide to surprise her.

**Word Count: **790+

**A/N: **Kitten’s name is Ziggy because David Bowie, and one of James Ransone’s other characters 😏

  
———

“Can we please get a cat?” Y/N had marched confidently into the living room where her fathers were sat together on the couch.

“Sweetie, we’ve talked about this,” Richie said sympathetically.

“Maybe when you’re a bit older we can think about it, but pets are messy and take a lot of responsibility,” Eddie said.

Y/N’s tiny frame deflated at the answer and her bottom lip jutted out, effectively ripping the hearts out of both men. They hated when she did that; it was adorable but heartbreaking and made it very difficult to say no. Their young daughter regained her composure and clasped her hands in front of her.

“I thank you for your consideration and I will not speak of the matter any further,” Y/N said, speaking as if she were a tiny adult.

“I have some homework to do. Dad,” she bowed her head at Eddie, “and dad,” she did the same to Richie, turning on her heel and slinking back to her room.

Eddie leaned over to make sure Y/N was out of earshot before turning back to Richie.

“What the fuck kind of eight-year-old talks like _that_?” Richie said, a small smile playing at his lips.

“Our daughter does, Rich. And we’re getting her a cat. I can’t keep saying no to the puppy eyes,” Eddie said.

“Oh yeah, definitely, I agree.”

———

Richie had visited the local rescue twice in search of the perfect feline and found it the second time. It was a teensy grey female kitten that curled up like a ball in his cupped palms, with pale green eyes and the most adorable bean toes Richie had ever seen. After sending a picture to Eddie and confirming it was “the one” he filled out the necessary paperwork, put her in the carrier with a blanket and toy and drove her home. Eddie had gone to the store the day before to get things they’d need and ended up bringing back everything but the kitchen sink: the carrier, bowls, food, a bed, squeaky toys, a cat teaser, blankets, a litter box, treats, a scratching post. Even though they’d been hesitant to get a pet at first, both grew more and more excited about the idea of welcoming a furry little friend into their home.

Richie pulled into the driveway and brought the kitten inside, seeing that Y/N and Eddie had yet to come back home from their outing. He set the carrier on the ground in the middle of the living room and opened it up. The grey kitten hesitantly began to crawl out, little legs swaying slightly. She looked up at him and gave a soft _mew_ before flopping over onto the rug. Richie giggled from the cuteness and he cringed at the high-pitched sound, thankful that he was the only one there to hear it.

He sat down on the rug in front of the kitten and scratched the top of her head with his finger, “Awww, you’re just a baby.”

Richie picked her up and she started purring. He cradled the kitten and cooed at it, switching into his baby-talk voice.

“A tiny wittle baby kitten with cute baby feet, small bean toes, and a lil _pear shaped belly_—”

“Rich?”

Richie straightened up and whipped his head around to see Eddie standing behind him with a rather amused look on his face, clearly happy with himself that he’d caught Richie Tozier in the act, talking to a kitten like it was a baby.

Richie cleared his throat, “Uh, I—“

“Is that a kitten?” Y/N popped out from behind Eddie and looked in surprise at the cat in Richie’s hands.

Richie smiled and put the kitten back on the ground, watching as Y/N rushed over and dropped to the ground so she was eye level with the animal.

“She’s all yours, kiddo,” Richie ruffled her hair and she almost squealed.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Y/N launched herself into Richie’s arms, knocking him back. Eddie took this time to meet the new kitten, giving it a gentle pet. She thanked Eddie next, giving him a similarly intense squeeze.

“I promise I’ll look after her,” Y/N said, the kitten already in her lap.

“We know you will. What do you want to name her?” Eddie asked, sitting next to Y/N and looking down at the grey ball of fur.

“Hmm…Penny?” Y/N suggested.

Eddie shook his head wildly and Richie gulped, the two exchanging a glance.

“Uhh, I don’t know sweetheart, it’s nice but um—”

“Maybe something else would suit better?” Eddie said.

“Okay…Ziggy?” Y/N said, remembering the guy with the lightning bolt painted on his face that Richie seemed to like listening to.

“That’s awesome,” Richie smiled proudly.

“Ziggy it is,” Eddie said.


	13. Losers’ Club x Musician!Reader HC’s

**Request: ** _Head canons for losers club with a friend who’s in a band? (Like a pumk rock kind of band not school band I mean) thank u!_

**Word Count:** 460+

**A/N: **Made the reader the bassist because I play bass 😂 They’re all roughly 16-18ish in these HC’s. Also The Losers Club is actually a sick band name???

———

(not my gif)

  * ^<strike>probably Richie with your bass when you’re trying to practise & rehearse</strike>
  * They try to go to all of your shows unless they can’t for whatever reason—eg. Eddie’s mum won’t let him leave the house or Mike has to help his grandfather with the farm. Sonia would quite literally have a heart attack if she ever knew where Eddie was _actually_ going.
  * You can bet your ass they all made t-shirts with your band’s name on them.
  * Bill helped design and draw up a little logo.
  * Some of them can handle the ‘gig atmosphere’ better than others - Stan and Eddie usually hang out at the back of the crowd where the people are less crazy and don’t thrash about as much. Eddie for obvious reasons and Stan because he doesn’t like being shoved around and stepped on. The one time he was near the front, some of the people were so rough - and most likely intoxicated - that Stan gave himself a small headache from rolling his eyes too intensely.
  * Richie eagerly shoves through to get to the front every time, usually dragging Bill behind him who has to keep apologising to people for his pushy friend.
  * Beverly follows suit with Mike and Ben in tow unless the two boys decide to watch from a table/booth with Eddie and Stan.
  * Richie is all about that bass - meaning he just thinks it’s so awesome that his friend is a bassist in a rock band. He’s always enjoyed rock music, probably more so than any of the other Losers so he definitely has several tapes of your music and listens to them on the regular.
  * Beverly is like a proud mother - “So you like this music, huh? I’m friends with the bassist!”
  * You’re not famous by any means since you’re teens who mostly played in the garage until your friends convinced you to start performing in public, but people seem to enjoy your music.
  * You could probably think of Stan as your manager. He’s good at being organised and has always been an adult trapped inside a teenager’s body so he’s happy to set up gigs for your band, negotiate payments for the more professional venues, organise transport, etcetera.
  * If Stan is your manager, then the rest of them are your ‘roadies’. But Beverly is the bodyguard—she’ll throw hands if necessary.
  * Sometimes Ben helps out with lyric writing. If the song has very profound lyrics, Ben probably had a hand in it.
  * Mike always gives you a pep talk before you go on stage to help with the jitters.
  * If you sing as well, Bill goes over his speech exercises with you beforehand to get you warmed up.
  * At one particularly crowded performance, Richie tried crowd surfing. It was a pretty successful venture and he was having the time of his life; meanwhile, Eddie was hyperventilating thinking everyone was going to drop Richie and he’d break his neck.


	14. Losers’ Club x Reader: Not Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: Can I ask for a platonic Losers club x Reader? Where she meets up with them and she talks about how she's married and has kids too. But when they go back to neibolt house pennywise makes her hear her children screaming to separate her from the group and she gets hurt? And then the losers comfort her and tell her it's not real. I'm sorry if it's to specific I was just wondering about this particular scenario. It's ok if you don't write it though since I asked for a lot. P.s I love your work❤

**Summary: **Pennywise uses Y/N’s children to scare her.

**Word Count:** 1.2k

**Warnings: **One mention of injury, not detailed. Swearing.

**A/N:** D/N = daughter’s name, S/N = son’s name.

———

“Wait, so only one of us had kids?” Richie asked.

“It’s probably a good thing you didn’t reproduce,” Eddie said to Richie, making the table erupt in laughter again.

“Hey! My non-existent children are way cooler than yours could ever hope to be, Eds,” Richie clapped back.

“Do you have pictures?” Beverly asked.

Y/N nodded and pulled her phone out from her pocket, opening up the camera roll and scrolling to find a picture that had the whole family in it. Once she found a photo with both her son and daughter—as well as her and her husband—she passed the phone to Beverly, who was sitting on her left.

“Oh my god, they’re gorgeous!” Bev almost squealed out of excitement, using her thumbs to zoom in on the photo.

“What are their names? How old are they?” Beverly asked.

“D/N is eight and S/N is fourteen,” Y/N laughed.

“Let me see,” Eddie said with a grin and Beverly passed the phone across the table to him, skipping past Richie.

“Wha- I wanna see, too, and I’m like right next to you so shouldn’t it be my turn—“

“Richie stop complaining, you can look next. Aww,” Eddie said, grinning widely at the first and only Losers’ Club offspring.

“Alright, gimme,” Richie took the phone from Eddie.

“Holy shit, they look like you!” Richie said to Y/N excitedly.

“They’ve got fifty percent of her DNA, dipshit, of course they do,” Eddie said whilst taking a sip of his drink.

“Well, not all kids look like their parents, man. Wait, y’know what? Now that I think about it, you are the _spitting image_ of your mother,” Richie said.

Ben almost spat his drink out and Eddie exhaled in frustration.

“Oh, fuck you, you fucki—“

Y/N shook her head and laughed at the bickering, taking her phone back from Richie to show Bill, Mike and Ben the photo as well.

“S/N reminds me of you a bit, actually,” Y/N said to Bill.

This made Bill smile, “Really?”

“Yeah, he loves drawing and writing stories. We should get together again after this so you can all meet them,” Y/N said. Everyone agreed, already feeling some sort of protectiveness and fondness towards the kids they’d never met; they were Losers’ blood, after all.

——

Y/N almost didn’t hear it at first but the moment she picked up on it, she began running down the hall desperately to locate the source. Any outsider might think her stupid for falling for it but when you’re really there, your very own babies screaming in pain and begging for you to save them, instinct takes over. She ran through the halls of 29 Neibolt, the sounds of her children screaming getting louder and louder until she came to a door slightly ajar. With an iron bar gripped tightly in hand, she shoved it open with full force and rushed into the room, ready to put the fear of God into whoever was hurting her kids. Only, there was no one. No children, nobody there to hurt them, just an empty room. And that’s when she realised she’d fallen right into the trap.

“Hey, where’s Y/N?” Mike asked, still stressed from the whole ordeal with Ben and the mirror, but not enough that he didn’t notice Y/N was gone.

“What?” Richie shot up, looking around the room—Y/N was just behind him a minute ago, where could she have gone without him noticing?

Panic started to creep in; whenever the question ‘_hey, where did so and so go?_’ was asked, especially in a place like this, it wasn’t good. Y/N must have slipped away when everyone was screaming at Ben’s torso being carved into. Beverly started calling out for Y/N. Bill ran up the stairs followed by Richie and Bev, and the remaining Losers searched the ground level.

A door slammed upstairs and Richie, Bill and Bev automatically ran to it, banging on the old wood.

“Y/N, are you in there?” Beverly yelled as Bill tried to twist the doorknob and force the door open.

Inside the room, Pennywise had finally made his appearance. Y/N was the only Loser with kids. And kids were a point of weakness for many parents, the perfect thing to use against someone. Y/N would do anything for hers, the fear of something bad happening to them was too much to bear—and Pennywise knew it. The eldritch clown stood crookedly in the corner and watched with a grin, drooling onto the floorboards; two young ‘children’ stood a few feet away from Y/N and she knew they weren’t real, but that knowledge didn’t make it any less upsetting. Black liquid poured out of their mouths and they weeped loudly, crying that Y/N wasn’t good enough. She couldn’t save them. She couldn’t keep them safe, not in this world.

The three outside the door heard the commotion and figured out what was going on. The rest of the group ran up the stairs after Richie called out that they’d found Y/N and all six of them gathered around the door, yelling for their friend to hold on because they were almost there, they were coming to help. They heard children’s screams and felt uneasy knowing what Pennywise was doing to Y/N psychologically.

“It’s not real, Y/N!” Mike yelled.

Beverly shoved aside the males who were kicking and banging the door and with her own iron bar she whacked at the door knob, hitting it with loud clangs until she was finally able to jimmy it enough and the wood around the lock splintered. Once the door was open they rushed in and briefly saw Pennywise and two demonic looking, blood soaked children. Mike grabbed Y/N and pulled her out of the room and they stumbled into the hallway. Y/N cried and winced, clutching her now fractured arm. The first person to have broken his arm in that house was quick to notice; Eddie inspected the injury and, though more than a little disturbed by yet again having to see a broken arm, was able to fashion a sort of makeshift sling out of his hoodie.

“Thank you, Eds,” Y/N said. Eddie didn’t mind so much that she called him Eds in that moment and fastened the sleeves of his hoodie around her neck so that her arm was supported.

Beverly wiped her friend’s tears away with her thumbs and the Losers huddled around her—Y/N felt like they were a sort of protective blanket.

“It wasn’t real, Y/N,” Mike said again, much softer this time.

“I know…but it—it felt like it was and—“ Y/N sobbed and Richie pulled her into his chest, her tears wetting his shirt. Beverly hugged her from the other side and the rest of her friends joined the close huddle.

“Your kids will be alright. They’re nowhere near this place,” Ben said, a comforting hand on Y/N’s knee.

“And even if they were, that clown would have a pretty hard time getting through all of us. We wouldn’t let anything happen to the mini-Y/N’s,” Richie said and squeezed her shoulders, careful not to knock her injured arm.

Y/N sniffed and smiled, pulling her face out of Richie’s chest to look at all of her friends, “You guys are going to be pretty awesome as uncles and aunt.”


	15. Stanley Uris Headcanons #1

Request: _ The parent headcannons for Eddie and Bill were adorable. Can I request something similar with fluffy single dad headcannons for Stanley and a daughter? Thank you <3_

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Swearing. Mention of periods (I don’t know if that really needs to be a warning though?).

———

_1\. Infancy_

  * Stan as a dad is Phil Dunphy-esque in that he’s a huge lovable dork who adores his kid.
  * He named his daughter Ava because ‘Avis’ in Latin means bird/birdlike.
  * Stan thought he would struggle with the typical baby messes but he actually surprised himself. Other babies’ “mess” was one thing, but his own was no problem. He guessed that was some sort of evolutionary thing so humans can care for their own babies without being grossed out.
  * With his line of work it wasn’t hard to do a lot of it from home, so he was able to look after Ava day and night. It made things a lot easier but it was still a lot of work and coffee became his best friend for a while there.
  * He noticed that having a baby made him a much lighter sleeper. This was obviously a good thing in many aspects because if Ava needed him he’d hear her crying and wake up, but it was also kind of frustrating being woken up by traffic outside when he was already running on very little sleep.
  * Stan isn’t really the baby talk type. Something about it seems kind of condescending, even though he knows Ava is a baby and honestly doesn’t give a shit because she wouldn’t know the difference. Stan always replies to her babbling to encourage the back-and-forth aspect of speech but he just talks like he normally would, albeit with a more gentle tone.
  * Bath time is always a riot—bubble beards all round. When Ava was a newborn and he was still getting the hang of things, he worried about the water temperature being exactly 36°C and not a single digit more or less, but with experience he got more confident and learnt to just test the temperature with his elbow.

_2\. Childhood Years_

  * This man can BRAID, DAMNIT. French braids, Dutch braids, regular plaits—you name it. Of course it was a skill he had to practice to get better at, so there are many pictures of his daughter as a toddler looking a straight up mess but by the time she started school he had it down pat.
  * Dora the Explorer makes him homicidal. But if Ava just HAS to watch Dora with him, he’ll sit through it without complaint.
  * But he lowkey loves Sesame Street, probably because it’s what he grew up with and it’s nostalgic. Ava has compared him to Count von Count, purely because of what Stan’s job is. Catch him in the right mood and Stan will do the voice, too.
  * School bake sales? Total domination. When Stan bakes, he’s very meticulous and conscientious. All the ingredients are measured out exactly and the actual baking is timed perfectly, so the results are always consistent and good quality (it also helps that the mums probably have huge crushes on him).
  * Stan’s always kind and fair but he doesn’t usually have any problem punishing Ava for breaking rules, being disrespectful to him or teachers (or anyone else, really), or just generally misbehaving.
  * But he’d never ever in a million years use physical punishment, not even a light spanking; he wouldn’t and couldn’t. If he has to carry out any discipline it’s likely going to be giving her extra chores, grounding her, or taking away certain privileges. He’ll definitely give her a stern—but reasonable—talking to.
  * He loves doing puzzles with his daughter. Sometimes if there’s a piece that’s very obvious, he’ll place it near where it should go but doesn’t put it in or make any mention of it—he lets her figure it out and have the victory, pretending that he had no idea it was supposed to go there.
  * Whenever he helps with homework he’s basically like a teacher away from school; Stan even ended up getting a small whiteboard so he could explain concepts easier. He wouldn’t let his daughter cheat or take shortcuts because he wants her to learn properly, that way she won’t have as much trouble later on.

_3\. Pre-Teen/Teen Years_

  * When Ava got older, the inevitable came along. Puberty, bras and boys. Stan knew the day would come when she would start getting her period so he’d educated himself on the topic enough beforehand to be capable of answering some of her questions.
  * And, Stan being Stan, he was already prepared before it happened—once Ava got to that age where most girls get it, he made sure she had what she needed in her bag in case it happened during the middle of a school day.
  * But, thankfully, it was a quiet weekend at home when she got her first period. Ava was quite emotional and a little bit freaked out but he was able to calm her down by assuring her it was all very normal and natural, nothing to be afraid of.
  * The whole period topic was a tiny bit uncomfortable to discuss the first time round because there needed to be a somewhat lengthy conversation about it but overall it wasn’t that bad. They eventually worked out a system and Ava’s way of letting him know when she needs pads/tampons is very discreet:
  * “Hey dad, I need some _things_ when you go out to the store later.”
  * “But of course. I will get you some _things_ at the earliest opportunity. I will also get chocolate…and Advil.” And then he salutes her, and they go about their business. (I told you he was a dork).
  * Buying a bra was a step up from periods in awkwardness. Stan didn’t know the first thing about buying them, so he just waited out at the front of the store while the woman who worked there helped Ava out with everything.
  * Oh, boy. The boys. They just keep comin’.
  * Stan doesn’t want to be one of those parents that Peter-Pans their children. He knows that kids get older and things change, Ava is no longer the teeny toddler who loved to sit on his knee while he read her stories. He’s accepted that it’s just a fact of life, but one thing he has a hard time getting comfortable with is hormonal teenage boys.
  * He trusts Ava because he’s drilled into her brain from a young age exactly what NOT to do (eg. taking things from strangers, getting into a stranger’s car, leaving a drink unattended at a party, that sort of thing). But can he truthfully say that he’s comfortable having her date people?…….nah.
  * Okay, he knows it’s going to happen at some point, but he still doesn’t love the idea. Stan would be sort of half way between cool dad and strict dad on the matter.
  * Ava is allowed to have a boyfriend BUT he has to be a nice boyfriend who respects her and her boundaries or else he and Stan will have a problem of epic proportions.
  * And there are no sleepovers with the boyfriend. Unless they’re happy for Stan to lie in between them (he joked about it but he’s also a little bit serious).
  * His parenting style is essentially “have fun but _no funny business_”.
  * The angsty teen phase was sort of painful. There were copious amounts of loud music, denim and eyeliner involved.
  * Stan may be serious a lot of the time but he can also be a little shit. One time he sloppily applied some of Ava’s eyeliner and sent her a frowny picture captioned “existence is suffering” to take the Mickey out of her. Remember that dad who recreated a whole bunch of his daughter’s Instagram selfies? Very that.
  * They usually had a weekend ritual. Every Friday night they’d wind down from a week of school and work by watching a movie together or playing a board game, but when she started going out with friends and going to parties that got a lot less frequent.
  * Stan tried not to be too upset by it. After all, not many other kids would hang out with their parents much at that age either, but it had always been just the two of them. He missed how Ava used to be so excited to see him every day.
  * Her first breakup was a shit storm of loud music, denim, and now-running-eyeliner. Like he always was when she was upset, Stan was there to get her through it.
  * “Men are the worst.”
  * “We sure are, sweetie.”
  * Ava is also very protective of her dad and if anyone ever said anything bad about him she would shut it down immediately. He’s always put her first for her whole life; staying up late when she was sick even though he himself was exhausted, helping her with school, making sure she had everything she needed, doing everything he could to prepare her for life—and he did it all alone. Stan didn’t mind being a single parent, and he didn’t care about the weird looks he’d get when he’d be the only dad at ballet practice, or when he had to buy tampons and anything else girly. Ava doesn’t always say it, but she appreciates him a lot.


	16. Bill x Reader: From Afar, Part V

**Summary:** Y/N gets the artefact and Bill gets the girl.

**Word Count:** 4k

**Warnings: **Swearing

**A/N: **That summary is so cheesy ugh I hate myself, but I couldn’t resist. Y/n/N = your nickname.

———

Nobody was too eager to separate. Eddie had made the very good point that in survival scenarios people had a better chance if they remained in a group, and you immediately thought of all the horror movies you’d seen where one dumbass suggests splitting up and then everyone gets murdered one by one. The only reason anyone gave in and agreed to separate was because it was the only way, supposedly—according to Mike—and at this point you’d do damn near anything if it meant you were all one step closer to defeating IT. So, everyone went their separate ways (but not without complaint from a certain few) and you found yourself lingering around the clubhouse instead of leaving like everyone else had.

None of the Losers were quite sure what it was, but it seemed like something was guiding you all to the places where you’d find your tokens; like your legs were working before your brain could tell them where to go. And yours led you back down into the clubhouse for a second time. It felt very different being in there on your own. It was still a nice place to be after so many years, reminiscing on the times you’d spent down there, but it didn’t quite have the same warmth that it did when it was occupied by the rest of the Losers just minutes before; it didn’t feel as lively as it used to when you were kids. When it was just you alone, it felt lonely.

For a minute you just pottered around, looking at all the little trinkets that were still there. A Batman comic caught your attention in particular, standing out amongst everything else like a sore thumb. You flicked it open, it’s pages were a little stiff and warped in some spots, and something fell out of it with a soft thump. When you looked down at your feet you saw a small white square which you clocked as a Polaroid photo. The Batman comic was quickly forgotten and discarded in favour of the photo and you picked it up, turning it around to see the image.

_“Richie, stop! You’re gonna drop it!” Eddie said with an anxious whine._

_Richie had been moving about a little too jerkily for his liking and Eddie grew concerned that it would make him drop the object in his hands. Again._

_“Relax, Eds, I’ve got it!”_

_“Stop, they’ll be here soon,” Beverly silenced them._

_The six of them made sure everything was in place for your arrival. They’d made sure that they would all get there before you and Stan with enough time. The box Richie was holding was covered in brightly coloured paper that had been wrapped very neatly—courtesy of Stan with his precision and careful effort. Ben held everyone’s cards, Beverly held a single cupcake with a candle stuck in the icing in one hand and her lighter in the other. Eddie fiddled with the elastic string that uncomfortably held the cone-shaped cardboard hat in place atop his head; he, Bill and Mike being the only ones with free hands all had party poppers and party horns ready to go._

_Not far from the entrance, you were talking with Stan and approaching at a leisurely pace, unaware of your friends clumsily rushing around the clubhouse. Your voices got closer and everyone scrambled to find a place to hide as best they could._

_“Operation Birthday Surprise is under way, Losers in position!” Richie spoke into an imaginary walkie, moving to crouch behind the hammock with Eddie._

_“Richie, shut up!”_

_“B-B-Both of you shush—we n-need to be able to hear Stan’s si-s-signal,” Bill said. Everyone waited in silence for a few beats, listening out for said signal._

_“Did you know that female bald eagles are twenty-five percent larger than the males?”_

_“The bald eagle has landed. It’s go time, people,” Richie said in a deep voice._

_Beverly lit the candle. Eddie, Bill and Mike put the party horns between their lips, aiming the poppers at the ladder with their fingers holding the strings, ready to pull the moment you came down. Everyone finalised their hiding spots and gave each other a thumbs up indicating that they were ready._

_“Okay…I don’t really know why you’re telling me that now but that’s very interesting, Stanny.”_

_The Losers heard some movement and the anticipation grew. Stan climbed down the ladder and you followed not far behind._

_“So where is everyo—“ you cut yourself off with a shout of surprise._

_You were bombarded with your friends jumping out of their hiding spots and blowing the horns, firing the party poppers at you and yelling ‘surprise!’. You yelped and fell back into the wall, clutching your chest where your heart was racing._

_After a brief moment of recovery and Eddie yelling that they’d probably sent you into cardiac arrest you began laughing—partly from the scare, and the genuine look of concern from Eddie, partly from the ridiculous party hats everyone was wearing. You were touched to see that they’d all coordinated this little surprise for your birthday._

_“Happy birthday,” Stan pulled you into a hug and a chorus of enthusiastic ‘happy birthday’s followed after his._

_Richie thrust the box into your arms and he quickly ran off to grab the final party hat._

_“I’m not putting that on my head, doofus,” You said in protest, dodging his attempts to put the hat on you._

_“Stop fighting it, everyone else has to wear one so you’re going to suffer with us—aha!” Richie stood back triumphantly once he’d worked the elastic over your face and the cone sat lopsidedly on your head. Bill reached out and gently pushed your hat to straighten it up and you smiled shyly._

_The attention fell back on the box in your hands and the Losers watched, eager for you to open it._

_“You guys didn’t have to get me anything.”_

_“Pssh, it’s nothing,” Richie waved a hand dismissively._

_“We know we didn’t HAVE to, but we wanted to,” Mike said, smiling warmly._

_You looked at the small stack of paper in Ben’s hands, “Should I read the cards first—”_

_“Oh my god, who even are you? Screw the cards, open the present already, you psycho!” Richie said, an impatient little ball of excitement. Beverly elbowed him in the ribs for the comment but Richie’s complaints fizzled out almost immediately when you began to unwrap their present._

_You peeled off the wrapping paper, much too slowly but it was a little intimidating having seven people staring at you waiting to see your reaction. Stan collected the wrapping paper as it was torn off and scrunched it into a ball to throw out later. Underneath the paper was a brand spanking new Polaroid camera, one that’d come out not that long ago, along with a pack of film to go with it. It took about four minutes for them to finally get you to stop saying thank you every two seconds._

_“Aren’t these expensive though?”_

_“Yeah but we saved for ages and all chipped in,” Eddie said, swinging on his heels with a grin, “And Richie haggled for like ten minutes with the cashier because there was damage on the box, so we got a discount.”_

_“Yeah, damage that HE caused when he dropped it in the store,” Stan said._

_“Oh please, it’s only minor damage! I’m pretty sure the only reason I was even able to score a discount is because the guy wanted to get rid of us,” Richie said, adjusting his glasses._

_“Just you, Rich. He just wanted to get rid of you,” Eddie said._

_“Doesn’t matter—the candle is melting, make a wish,” Beverly smiled, holding out the cupcake that was now covered in spots of blue wax that had dripped off the candle. You stood in thought for a moment before blowing out the flame._

_Ben proceeded to pass you the cards and you read through them all with a smile. Ben’s had a short birthday poem, Mike’s was articulate and sincere, Beverly’s card was heartfelt. Eddie’s letter was almost ridiculously long but you read the whole thing and cherished every word. Richie’s was chock full of inside jokes and featured one phallic symbol that was disguised as an innocent cactus drawing (he was going to give you his real card later when you were alone, it was much more meaningful)._

_Bill’s letter was sweet and had some artwork that was very different to Richie’s: a small colourful portrait of you. He almost changed his mind last minute by not including the drawing but was relieved to see that you seemed to really like it. Bill admittedly held back a bit when writing the card because he didn’t want to give too much away regarding his feelings. Stan wrote in his card about how proud he was of everything you’d accomplished, how he knew you’d do great things for the world when you were older and he couldn’t wait to see it happen. He said he’d always be there when you needed him, even if he wasn’t there physically. He’d be just a phone call away._

_“What did you wish for?” Mike asked as Beverly attempted to pick all the wax off the icing so it was edible._

_“Dude, you can’t ask that. It’ll jinx it!” Richie feigned seriousness._

_“I wished that, even when we’re all grown up, we’ll still be friends. That we’ll always have each other,” You said, a solemn tone taking over._

_Stan smiled sadly. He worried about the same things sometimes, that everyone would get older and drift apart. That they wouldn’t even bother to keep in touch as years went by._

_Your brother put his arm around your shoulders, “Don’t worry, Y/n/N. Losers stick together.”_

The Polaroid had survived remarkably well, probably thanks to the Batman comic that it was wedged between the pages of. It was an old photo and looked it, but you could still clearly see everybody in the image and all the colours were there, albeit a little less vibrant than they would’ve been all those years ago. You’d all huddled together to take the first photo on your new camera, wearing your dumb party hats. It wasn’t your average smiley photo, either. Richie had decided it would be hilarious to smash the cupcake into your face right as the timer on the camera went off. He was grinning wickedly, hand stretched out over to you past Eddie—who looked horrified by what he was witnessing. Richie was pushing the cupcake directly into your face, smushing icing everywhere. Mike, Ben and Beverly were all wearing shocked expressions of their own but Bill’s face was the funniest since he’d blinked right as it happened. Stan looked surprisingly tranquil, smiling in content at his sister and friends messing around.

You laughed at the looks on your faces, and would give anything to go back to those days where you were still young, with your whole lives ahead of you. Not yet worried about all the stresses and responsibilities that came with adulthood, and most importantly, when all eight of you were still there. You weren’t exactly sure what you’d be doing with your tokens but the word “sacrifice” implied that you would have to give it up, and this photo was too precious to just let go. You pulled out your phone and snapped a few pictures, trying to get as clear an image as you could so you’d always have it.

After safely tucking your phone and the Polaroid into your pocket, you said your proper goodbye to the clubhouse and stepped back up the ladder into the real world. It was remarkably quiet without everyone else there. It was a peaceful kind of silence in the clubhouse but when you looked around at the empty forest, you felt a small twinge of…well, you wouldn’t exactly call it _fear_ at that point, but it was definitely some type of uneasiness. Just a little, not enough to be overwhelming or alarming. But just enough to put you on edge; there was some sort of gut feeling that was trying to tell you that you weren’t as alone as you thought you were. And after everything you went through during that summer in 1989, as well as experiencing everything else you’d ever faced in your adult life, you knew never to doubt your gut. That instinct of yours had only ever let you down a few times in your life, the most recent time being with Stanley. You didn’t realise anything was particularly wrong with him when he called, and you couldn’t understand how that was possible.

Even as you walked back the direction you’d come from earlier, that feeling of another presence lingered. The further you walked, the stronger it got. But the stronger it got, the more eager you were to get out of the Barrens and head back to the town house.

You picked up the pace, quickly going from walking to jogging until you were almost running. If you were in any other town you would’ve thought it was silly to be running away from what seemed to be nothing at all. But this is Derry; bad shit happens so running is advisable.

While you were running you realised that every direction looked almost the same. You were forced to stop for a moment to get your bearings and figure out exactly which direction Mike had led the group from earlier—you didn’t want to waste time running in the wrong direction and end up even deeper in the Barrens. Whipping around to try and spot something familiar, you saw the same bundle of trees that you and Bill had stopped to talk by earlier. Once you got there, you remembered where you were.

A squeaky sound made you freeze. Your body went rigid and you clenched your fists, but you tried to keep on walking. Just pretend you didn’t hear it. But then it happened a second time, only now it was louder and sounded like several squeaks instead of one. It was like rubber being moved against rubber. Now you recognised that sound: balloons.

When you finally turned around all you saw was a bundle of red balloons, a couple dozen, tied together and floating still in a big mass. Not moving with the wind, not even swaying a little bit, just entirely still.

The first balloon popped. A few seconds later the second popped. Three more balloons burst loudly and each one made you flinch. The balloons began to pop much quicker, starting from the bottom. In a matter of seconds you could see a pair of feet hiding behind the balloons. A red pompom on each foot.

The balloons popped faster still, and you began to pace backwards to distance yourself from the clown that was revealing itself little by little. You could see the whole length of it’s legs now.

A tree root caught your foot and you fell backwards. The back of your head collided with a large rock that was half wedged in the dirt and you groaned in pain, hand moving quickly to clutch the area. Your eyes were squeezed shut and the balloons stopped popping.

Everything was quiet again. You slowly opened one eye, terrified to find out what was waiting for you. There was nothing in sight, but you knew Pennywise well enough to know that he, or _it_, loved surprising people.

“Boo!” Pennywise laughed crazily as he suddenly appeared behind you, ready to take a big chunk out of the space between your neck and shoulder.

You screamed and thwacked your elbow back into the clown’s chest. It probably didn’t do much to injure him but you were up and running not two seconds later. The collision with the rock left the back of your head throbbing painfully, but it wasn’t so hard that it would leave you dizzy or half-conscious. His laughs continued to follow while you sprinted through the Barrens until eventually you got far enough, and they stopped.

Legs aching from the intense running and heart beating fast, you leaned your hands on your knees and panted, “Nice try, asshole.”

———

Eddie arrived back at the town house at the same time you did. He spotted you coming from the opposite direction on the street and was relieved to see a familiar face after everything that happened at the pharmacy.

“Jesus…” You said, feeling bad for poor Eddie when you saw the black vomity substance coating his clothes and face.

Eddie stopped in front of you and shrugged, though he was breathing rather heavily like he was trying not to throw up, pass out, or do both, “Eh, I’ve looked worse.”

You raised an eyebrow and sweeped your eyes over his clothes. He chuckled half heartedly.

“Okay, this is probably the worst.”

“Come on, let’s go clean off…whatever _this_ is?” You gestured once again to the liquid and Eddie was about to answer.

“Actually, don’t tell me what it is. I think I’d rather not know,” You laughed and Eddie smiled.

“Fair enough.”

The two of you walked into the town house, Bill walking not far down the street with his gaze lowered to the ground. When you walked in you saw Beverly, who thankfully looked physically unharmed.

“What happened to you?” Beverly asked.

“Nothing, I’m fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine,” Eddie said, hurrying up the stairs to the bathroom.

The door opened and Bill walked in just as you disappeared into the bar to grab some ice for your head.

“Where’s everybody else?”

You perked up a bit hearing Bill’s voice and finished putting a handful of ice cubes into a plastic bag.

“Richie wants to leave, Ben’s upstairs trying to get him to stay,” Beverly said.

“Ha, good luck with that, Benny—_ouch_,” You muttered, wincing after pressing the ice to the back of your head.

“He’s just scared.”

“So am I, Bill. Aren’t you? We’re all scared,” Beverly said, Bill moving forward to embrace her.

You hated the fact that the action made you just a _little_ jealous. But you remembered how things were when you were kids. You loved Beverly to death; she was one of your best friends and never in a million years would you wish her anything but the best, but in your own opinion you’d never compare. When you were kids, you thought she was always just a little bit better than you in every way. Older, taller, prettier, braver, smarter—it was only natural for Bill to gravitate towards her over you. Could you really blame him? Beverly Marsh was awesome.

“Is Y/N back yet?” Bill asked, sounding worried.

“Yeah, she just came in with Eddie a moment ago,” Beverly said.

Bill relaxed a little and nodded in relief.

“You should talk to her,” Beverly said, knowing full well that you could hear.

“About what?” Bill asked.

“You already know what,” a small smile creeped onto her face and you chose this time to come out of the bar.

Bill’s face went from happy to concerned when he saw the bag of ice being held to your head. Beverly had a similar reaction and she immediately ran over, pulling your hand away to take a look.

“Easy there, tiger,” you said to Beverly, “it’s fine, really. I didn’t even hit it that hard.”

“Head injuries aren’t something to shrug off, Y/N,” Beverly said sternly.

“I’d hardly call this a head injury, I just banged it on a rock when that douchebag clown came after me,” you winced when Beverly put the ice back on the tender spot.

Bill shook his head at your insistence and took over for Beverly, holding the ice to your head.

“You should sit down, at least,” Bill led you to the sofas and Beverly silently slipped away.

“I’m fine,” you repeated. Bill sat the two of you down and he tried looking for any blood on your head but was happy to find none.

“You’ve always been bad at admitting when you need help,” Bill said.

“Because I don’t,” You said.

Bill leaned back and gave you a pointed look.

“Okay, point made, Denbrough,” you laughed, “but to be fair, you’re not much different.”

You sat in comfortable silence for a minute until Bill chuckled softly to himself.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing, I was just thinking about something,” Bill said.

“Yeah…?”

Bill chewed on his bottom lip, considering Beverly’s recent suggestion. She was probably right about him needing to tell you.

“Remember that day outside the pharmacy? I had a bloody nose and we-we bumped into each other when you were coming out and you cleaned me up.”

“Yeah, I remember. What about it?”

Bill thought about his two options—finally telling you how he really felt or talking himself out of it once again. _What the hell, carpe diem, right?_

“It’s one of the first things I remembered when you came into the restaurant. I remembered how I’d felt that day, so beaten down and defeated. But then you came along and I didn’t feel so weak anymore,” Bill finished

You smiled at Bill, feeling your heart flutter just a little bit. You wanted him to continue so you could see where he was going with this—hopefully he’s trying to say what you think he is.

“It’s kind of crazy - it’s been so many years and you still have that effect on me,” Bill gave a nervous laugh before getting serious and looking you in the eyes.

“We might not all make it out of this,” he said.

“I really don’t want to think about that right now,” you mumbled.

“I know, but I need to say this properly before we go after IT,” Bill gently pulled the ice away from your head, plonking it on the coffee table. No more screwing around and avoiding the topic, he did enough of that when you were kids.

“I love you, I did when we were kids and I still do. I never stopped, not for the whole 27 years—I just didn’t really know it until I came back to Derry and remembered everything. Back then, I never did a goddamn thing about it. I never tried to tell you how I felt or if I did I always chickened out,” Bill spoke, notably without stuttering or faltering once.

He felt a swirling mixture of anxiety and relief, an odd combination, but he was glad he got the chance to tell you. And if you didn’t feel the same, well, at least he tried. Bill took one of your hands and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I only loved you from afar and it’s one of my biggest regrets.”

Your heart was almost jumping out of your ribcage at this point. Never in your life had anyone ever said something so romantic to you and you weren’t entirely sure how to respond to it. All you knew was that you loved Bill, and now you knew that Bill loved you.

“Bill…” your words fell short and Bill incorrectly interpreted this as you feeling awkward and trying to let him down easy.

“It’s okay, I understand that you don’t feel the same,” Bill said, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice.

You quickly shook your head to stop him from leaving, “no, dumbass.”

You grabbed the front of Bill’s plaid shirt and gently tugged him down, pressing your lips to his. A warm feeling spread through your whole body, all encompassing and electrifying. Bill responded almost immediately and closed his eyes, softly cradling your face in his hands and deepening the kiss. This was definitely a long time coming and it felt better—more right—than he ever could have imagined it to feel. He wondered if this was what everyone else in the world felt when they kissed someone they loved, because he certainly hadn’t experienced it himself until just now. Something about it seemed rare and truly special. For the first time in a long time, or perhaps ever, Bill felt like he was the lucky one.

When you parted from the kiss you were both so dazed that you almost didn’t notice Beverly coming into the room. She saw the way Bill was holding you and could easily guess what had just happened.

Bev grinned and folded her arms, “It’s about time.”


End file.
